Our Forever Hasn't Ended Yet
by normalcyisoverated
Summary: When a Crawford Country Day student, Naomi Breskin, meets Kurt Hummel, she is volunteering at Columbus Hills Nursing Home. Will Kurt open up to her about his late husband and distant daughter, or will he stay alone and privatize his past?  Character death beware.
1. Chapter 1

Our Forever Hasn't Ended Yet

Prologue:

Naomi Grace Breskin was sixteen when she started volunteering at the Columbus Hills Nursing Home. It wasn't that she had a passion for helping the elderly, oh no, but she needed twenty-five hours of community service a year to graduate at Crawford Country Day. The old-folks home was gray and dreary, draped with drying vines and scattered with crisp, fallen leaves. It was incredibly depressing.

Naomi pulled into the parking lot and stepped out of her red Mazda, smoothing the wrinkles from her clothes and running her fingers though her blond-highlighted hair. She stood at a solid five and a half feet, with lightly browned skin, and brilliant green eyes, wearing a pleated plaid skirt paired with a white polo and knee-high socks for a uniform. She walked briskly towards the entrance, squeezing between the glass doors, and strode up to the front desk, facing a middle-aged secretary.

"Excuse me?" Naomi asked, shyly.

"Yes, miss?"

"I…um, need to pick an application for volunteer work," Naomi replied.

"Of course." She began to dig through a cabinet, her fingers of one hand skimming over files and papers, while the other hand clawed for a pen and clipboard. Once she found what she was looking for, the fifty-or-so year old woman handed all of the materials to Naomi and recited the basic instructions of what to sign. Naomi thanked her graciously and seated herself on a lone loveseat in the corner of the carpeted room.

She flipped through the papers swiftly checking a box here, scribbling a "no" there, and signing her name everywhere. She held her complete focus to the packet, blocking out her surroundings, including the pale man shuffling nearer to her with each step.

"May I join you?" he asked, breaking her from her reverie.

The voice startled her to no end, but she recovered quickly and nodded, blinking her wide eyes.

"Thank you," the man replied. He sat beside her, avoiding her legs and gazing out the window at a thick oak tree. Naomi went back to penning her contact information on the application, but every time she tried to re-concentrate, her attention dragged back to the wrinkled man next to her. His voice was unusually high, but contained a subtle raspiness to it and his eyes were faded and stoic. His skin was papery and practically see-through and you could just barely make out the pulsing blue veins that weaved over his knuckles. The one thing he lacked for his age was wrinkles, but he made up for them with shady purple circles around his eyes. _Circles around his eyes means he's not sleeping, _Naomi pondered. _Why isn't he sleeping? _

Eventually, she finished her paperwork and stood up to turn in her accomplished form. She waved at the man, who in return smiled with pink chapped lips. For some odd reason, the expression looked foreign to his face.

Chapter 1:

Naomi hated cafeteria food. It was either gooey or rubbery, and it smelled like chemicals. But she sat in a plastic chair anyway, picking at her salad with soggy croutons and wrinkled tomatoes. She wanted to leave for lunch, like she did every day at 12:30, but the flurry of snow kept her inside Columbus Hills for her thirty-minute lunch break.

She began her service at the home over two months ago, working behind the scenes filing papers and answering the calls of worried daughters and sons. She was what the Columbus Hills staff called a "junior member," and was well respected by the majority of the staff and the few elderly residents who knew her. Over time, though, her title seemed immature for her level of skill and the staff of Columbus Hills decided to assign her to one of the lonelier inhabitants of the nursing home, so he or she could connect to the modern world and break away from their normal routine. Each day she was to spend one or two hours with her older citizen, taking strolls, playing cards, or simply by talking to one another to pass the time.

_Who will I be assigned to? Marjorie? Lawrence? Evelyn? Marvin? _Naomi scrolled through memorable faces she matched with lists of names. _Thelma? What about the guy with the thick glasses? Roy? Viola? _Pairs of drooping eyes and balding heads ran through her mind. _Vincent? Phillip? Elaine? Mari-_

A manila envelope fell flat on to the table in front of her. She looked up into the youthful eyes of a nurse in floral scrubs. "For you," she said. The nurse studied Naomi's contorted features. "It's your new friend, " she whispered, her Sketchers squeaking on the linoleum as she made her way down the hall.

Naomi looked at it for a minute, staring it down. _You better have something good to say, _she thoughtand pulled the envelope closer. She carefully opened the top flap, breaking the seal, and spilled the envelope's contents on the tabletop. A face and a name gazed up at her in big, block lettering.

**KURT HUMMEL**

She didn't recognize the name one bit, but the face was familiar. She'd seen it two months ago when she had filled out her application to volunteer in the first place. _Kurt Hummel, _she thought to herself, _that's his name. _His eyes, still cold and stony, hadn't changed from her memory of him, and it haunted her to think why this man was lonely enough to need a teenager to attend to him. The flyer that held some of his basic information did not say if he had any family or when he got to Columbus Hills, but Naomi wanted to know. Now.

In sheer seconds of seeing Mr. Hummel's face again, she couldn't help but be fascinated with him, and searched frantically for anything she could learn about his personality. It seemed that he had no medical conditions or any known hobbies such as bird watching or bowling. He was seventy-one in May, but he looked as if he were in his sixties and still able to fend for himself. He lived on the first floor the eastern wing of the nursing home in room 912, where he was to be met by Naomi at one o'clock. It was 12:57. _Kurt Hummel here I come._

* * *

><p>"Mr. Hummel?" Naomi called, her voice paired with her steady knocking on the door in front of her. There was no reply. "Mr. Hummel? My name is Naomi, I'm a volunteer, and I was told to meet you here at one o'cl-" The door swung open fiercely, only to reveal a skinny man in a maroon sweater and dark-wash jeans.<p>

"Mr. Hummel was my father. I'm Kurt."

"Oh, pardon me…Kurt." Naomi blushed and rubbed the back of her neck with embarrassment. _What a great way to start, Naomi. _

"It's no trouble," Kurt said. "Would you like to come inside?"

Naomi stepped into the bright room, the curtains pulled back and a candle flickering in the corner. "Thanks," she answered.

"So you're supposed to enlighten me with today's common knowledge, right?" Kurt asked, falling into a vinyl chair.

Naomi looked taken aback. "Well, I guess so, but I'm mostly here to be your friend." She stuck out her hand and said, "I haven't properly introduced myself. I'm Naomi Breskin, please to make your acquaintance."

Kurt raised a single eyebrow, and met her hand with his. "Kurt," he said politely. "You must be from Crawford, you have impeccable manners."

"Thank you. And yes, I go to Crawford for high school. Do you know it?" Naomi seated herself in an armchair across from him.

"It's Dalton's sister-school. I went there, to Dalton I mean, for a few months while I was young."

_A few months is not a very long time, _Naomi pondered. "Really?"

"Hm-hmm. It was great, but I transferred back for personal reasons."

_What kind of personal reasons? _Naomi wondered. _Money? Family? _But she avoided her thoughts and stuck with a nod. There was a long silence, the two people gazing at their hands awkwardly, until Naomi broke the pause. "Kurt, I hate to pry, but…the staff assigned me to you because they said you were lonely. Are you actually, you know…lonely?"

Kurt sighed heavily, running his bony fingers through his hair. "It depends on what some people define as lonely."

"I define it as someone who needs a companion, and as someone who feels empty inside, for whatever reason. Can you relate to any of that?"

Kurt clenched his jaw, "I've been doing fine on my own."

"That didn't answer my question."

Kurt slid forwards on the chair, and clasped his hands together tightly. "I don't relate to anyone here, and honestly, I don't want to. I didn't choose to be lonely, Naomi, and I wish I wasn't, but I am."

"Do you think I can change that for you?" Naomi asked.

Kurt laughed a little bit, "I don't think you would want to. If you want a worthy case, you should try someone else."

"I don't want someone else," Naomi affirmed strongly. "I want you to feel the urge to get out of bed in the morning and talk to me about whatever you feel like. I want to be your friend, Kurt."

"I'm nothing special."

Naomi looked at Kurt for a moment, taking everything about him in. "Yes, you are. No one deserves to be alone."

Kurt pressed his lips together, creating a firm line, and Naomi may have only been imagining it, but his eyes seemed wetter than they were a minute ago. "You are a very sweet girl, Naomi. It would be an honor to get to know you."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Why hello readers! Are you out there, readers? Hellooooo? Well of you are out there, leave a review! Please? Anyway, I thought this would have been updated sooner, seeing as the chapter is so short, but I've been on vacation and stuff...so yeah. Since I didn't leave an A/N last chapter, I'm gonna sum some stuff up about this story for y'all. So this story takes place in Ohio present day. Basically, Kurt was born in 1939 and he is now living in an old folks home. He is 71 right now, which may seem young for a nursing home, but it will all be explained in later chapters. There isn't a lot on Klaine action yet, but please hang in there because it's coming very soon! Thank you to anyone who reviewed my other oneshots and thank you to anyone who alerted this story:D Now sit back, relax, and READ.**

**Discalimer: I don't own glee! Quit reminding me!**

Chapter 2:

"If you had to pick your favorite artist, who would it be?" Naomi had found a conversation starting game on sale at Target and thought it would be a good way to test Kurt's boundaries without getting too personal. The questions varied from being dull and unimportant to wildly inappropriate, but so far Naomi knew that Kurt preferred cats to dogs, went to New York Academy of Dramatic Arts for college, grew up in Lima, Ohio, couldn't stand rap music, and thought that paisley should be banned in all fifty-states.

Kurt coughed, and rested his head on his hand pensively, "I've always thought Matisse's cutouts were divine."

Naomi smiled at him, "what about other types of artists, like musicians or actors?"

Kurt thought about that for a minute, searching for a worthy answer. "Heard of Oscar Wilde? He was a great play write and poet."

"The name sounds familiar. What has he written?"

"_The Importance of Being Earnest_ was a big hit for him. His poetry was mostly centered around love, too," Kurt added.

Naomi whispered the name to herself several times, burning it into her memory for further contemplation. "I'll look into him."

Kurt nodded affirmatively, reaching for the next card. "Ooh, this one's juicy…love interests?" Kurt's eyes glittered with anticipation; he wanted a good story, something romantic that made him swoon.

But Naomi's face burned, and she pressed her cold palms to her cheeks to stop the heat. She worried her lip between her teeth, biting and nipping the pale pink skin so she wouldn't let any secrets loose. Since the day she met Kurt, she had connected with him, and over time she began to trust and respect him as a companion. Naomi would have even called them friends because the idea of sharing personal information with Kurt didn't faze her, but she was never one to spread details about any relationship she was in or hoped to be in. "There isn't anyone I have my eye on at the moment," she mumbled, twirling a strand of her hair anxiously.

Kurt laughed, "Naomi, how old are you? Sixteen? There's always someone at your age, even if they work in Hollywood and have signed with the best record label in the business."

Naomi smiled shyly, "well, there's this one guy-"

"I knew it! I always know when there's someone special. It's a gift, really. But go on, tell me everything you know so far."

Naomi giggled, and rolled her eyes at Kurt's antics. He was so unlike any of the other people at Columbus Hills, he was youthful and…different. He had his own spark, his own color; he stood out from Columbus's black and white community. "His name is Cole. He goes to Dalton, and he's the newest member of the Warblers, the accapela choir there. He's not basketball player tall, but he isn't short either and he has brown eyes and bronze hair, and he just transferred from Northern California, and now I'm rambling." Naomi blushed as she realized just how much she knew about the boy she had only met a week ago.

Kurt smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. "Seems like you're infatuated," he teased. "And these are a little out of date, but if you had a Sadie-Hawkins dance I would tell you to go for it."

"I would, too," Naomi agreed. "What about you? I saw you chattering with Marcie the other day, any connections?"

Kurt's grin fell, and his body tightened. "Um…"

"Come on, Kurt. You got it out of me, now it's your turn to share," Naomi retorted. She didn't know. She couldn't have known. Naomi didn't know about Kurt's days of hiding. She didn't know about the threats, or the looks, or the hate. She didn't know about who he was. She didn't know about Kurt's confusion or passion for another person. She didn't know about his love. She didn't know about Blaine…

_"Blaine, no, we can't."_

_ "Yes, we can, Kurt. I will fight for love, Kurt. I'll fight for you…"_

"Kurt? Kurt!" Naomi snapped her companion out of his memory.

"Sorry, Naomi. I was just…just thinking, that's all."

"Well, do you have a name? I'm quite the hopeless romantic," Naomi alleged.

Kurt coughed, rotating his options through his head. There were very few open-minded people in Ohio, in the Mid-West in general as a matter of fact. But Kurt was not going to lie, especially not to this kind, young woman who was preparing to set out into the world herself. And if she was conservative and unaware then Kurt decided that is was his job to teach her the truth of acceptance. "I'm not interested in Marcie, Naomi." Naomi opened her mouth to speak but Kurt just held up his finger to shush her. "I'm not interested in any of the women here, but not because they aren't lovely people," Kurt took a deep breath through his nose, "but because I'm gay." Kurt and Naomi held each others gaze, letting the awkward silence settle in the room. Kurt felt a droplet of sweat form on the back of his neck from the anxiety of the situation. _Don't run away, Naomi, _Kurt pleaded to himself. Don't run away from the inevitable_. Don't run away, don't run away, don't-_

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," Naomi rushed. Her hands shot up to cover her mouth as if she could rewind what she'd said. "I shouldn't have assumed…"

Kurt blinked, his lips parting, "you're not angry?"

Naomi looked confused, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed. "Why-why would I be angry… Because- wait. Do you think I would be angry at you for being…for being gay?" Her contorted features relaxed as she asked one question after another. "I'm not angry at you, Kurt."

"So…you don't have a problem with homosexuality?" Kurt checked, a serious look on his face.

Naomi smiled fondly, the corners of her eyes bunching up to create wrinkles, and her teeth shining with pride between her glossed lips. "I don't judge people based on who they fall in love with, Kurt."

Kurt blew out a blustering breath he didn't know he was holding, and slapped his hand over his heart, smiling. "Well that's a relief!" They both laughed out loud, dismissing any worry or concern. When they had calmed down and their breathing became steady, Kurt asked Naomi question after question about where she got her accepting nature from and why she wasn't like "the rest of the homophobes in the mid-west."

"I didn't used to be open-minded," she replied to one of Kurt's many flooding questions. "I was raised Baptist, and I was always told that a man lying down with another man was a sin. But when I was in ninth grade, my best friend of four years came out to me as bisexual. I honestly didn't even know what that was when she told me, but after she explained…well frankly, I was appalled. I ignored her for a day to start, then a week, and before I knew it, a month had passed. When my parents asked me why they hadn't seen me hanging around her anymore, I told them. I outed my best friend to my parents, explaining that she was a sinner and going to hell, who promptly told her parents.

"The next day, she came to school with tears rolling down her cheeks and a welt on her cheek. I didn't know it then, but later she told me that her mom slapped her." Naomi took a deep breath, wiping her wet eyes. "Anyways, after a while of bullying from her parents and- and me, she got fed up with the hate and tried to kill herself. She climbed up onto an abandoned bridge and jumped." Naomi hung her head in shame, scrubbing her face of the watery mascara tracks on her cheeks. "Luckily, there was a park ranger on duty and he called nine-one-one. She had a nasty concussion and broke a couple of bones, but after intense therapy, she got back on her feet again. I'd never felt guiltier, and I still do feel the guilt, but she talked to me about it, about her sexuality, her feelings. We did tons of research together, and while I'm still trying to make things right between us, I've been done with the hate ever since the day she attempted suicide."

Kurt eyed Naomi, carefully scanning her eyes. "That's- that's an incredible story. I wish there were more people out there like you, Naomi."

Naomi grinned, "well, I try every day. I recently started our schools gay/straight alliance club and I…spread the word about teen suicide as much as I can. "

Pride swelled in Kurt's chest. "That's incredible," he whispered.

"Thank you," Naomi replied. "But…what fascinates me is your story, Kurt. Wanna share?" She smiled a shy, closed-mouth smile, cocking her head.

Kurt bit his lip, shutting his eyes and lacing his fingers together tightly, desperately searching for an alibi. "You don't want to hear old Kurt Hummel's story! It's just a bunch of details," he lied.

Naomi let out a loud "pfft" noise and rolled her eyes. "Are you kidding me? I mean, unless you don't want to share, which I completely understand, then I would be delighted to hear about your experience."

"Oh," Kurt responded simply. He wanted to tell her, he really did, but starting off his journey through the gay rights movement was hard. There were things that many couldn't understand, feelings that he kept hidden from the world that he didn't feel like unlocking. But he decided that if anyone were to know, it would be Naomi. Kurt cleared his throat. "I realized that I didn't like girls when I was six. They were gross and had cooties and all that little kid stuff, you know? But I really didn't know that I liked boys until I met Blaine…"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"It was my junior year of high school when I met him," Kurt began. Naomi waited for the long, romantic drawl about Kurt and his lover, as she rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands. "It was 1955. He was still a sophomore at the time, and he had just recently transferred from a preparatory school a few hours away," Kurt reminisced, his eyes coated with a far-off look. He hadn't spoken to anyone about Blaine in years. Then again, he didn't like to talk about their separation, which many people asked him about, so he tried to avoid the topic, but Naomi was so innocent and Kurt enjoyed most of his tales as a boy as long as there were few questions involved.

"We met at my Junior Prom, when he was still courting a ditz named Rosalie. I was just sitting at a table when a glass of fruit punch was slammed down on the table. When I looked up, I locked eyes with him. He had gorgeous honey-hazel eyes." Kurt gaged Naomi to see if she was feeling discomfort with his intense attraction to this man. But Naomi just kept smiling her shimmering smile, dazed in the romantic-ness of it all. "Anyway, he shook my hand, and seeing that he was the only sophomore at that shindig, he said he wanted to get to know someone for the evening. Now normally, I would have ignored him to spend time with my closer friends. It was my prom, after all. But oh no, he was very dapper and courteous and something just seemed to click between us, so we just talked the entire night. We talked about our favorites at the time, like Fred Astaire, Bing Crosby for me and Buddy Bear, Sugar Ray Robinson, and Jackie Robinson for Blaine. Don't get me wrong, he was very much into the entertainment business, as well, but I clearly remember our intense conversation about boxing and baseball. Blaine was our high school's champion boxer at the time. But we talked for the whole night, completely forgetting about the rest of the people there, including Blaine's date."

Naomi's confusion spread widely onto her face. "Wait…Blaine's date? But wasn't he…"

Kurt quickly caught on. "Gay? Oh yes! Gay as the Fourth of July! But that was 1955, when blacks and whites couldn't even drink out of the same water fountain. The gay community was never mentioned back then, at least not to me." Naomi nodded solemnly, sadness trickling into her with that remark. Kurt sensed her pain and quickly changed the subject. "Later, Blaine and I began to speak all the time. He worked at the pharmacy down the street, so I would go over with him to his job and help him stock shelves while we just talked. And now that I think about it, we never ran out of things to talk about. We just kept on chattering.

"Soon, Blaine and I had progressed from acquaintances to best friends. I went to all of his boxing tournaments and he came to all of the school plays I was in. We did everything together. "

Naomi smiled kindly, listening to Kurt's story with enthusiasm. His eyes seemed to light up every time he mentioned the other boy, and Naomi thought that it was good for him to relive fond memories. When she noticed that Kurt hadn't rekindled his story, she asked a question. "So, if homosexuality was such a secret back then, how did you and Blaine…get together? I mean, if no one talked about it, then how did you guys communicate your interest in one another for the first time without knowing the other was gay?" The words sounded jumbled once they left her mouth, but she left her question the way it was to avoid even further confusion.

Kurt sighed as if a sponge full of memories sopped through his skull. His eyebrows furrowed, contemplating how to answer Naomi's question thoughtfully. "Well, one day Blaine and I were eating lunch at school- this was about six months after we met- and this girl came up to me and asked me to our upcoming Sadie Hawkins dance. I told her that I was sorry, but I wasn't interested. When Blaine asked me why, seeing as she was a very smart, very pretty girl, I told him the truth and said that I wasn't interested in her. Blaine promptly explained to me how everyone wanted to go with her, and that he was surprised that I turned her down. At that comment you could say I got a little…steamed, but you have to remember that I didn't know I was gay. All I knew was that I felt something with Blaine- something that was more than platonic- but I couldn't figure out what it was. I told Blaine that she wasn't my type, and he started asking me what my type was. I honestly didn't know who I was attracted to at that point, so I just said that I didn't want to talk about it and that is was too personal.

Later that afternoon, when I was walking home from school, Blaine pulled his bicycle up next to me and told me to hop on the handlebars. Apparently he had something he wanted to tell me and that is was very urgent that I knew. I was still angry about what had happened earlier that day so I kept walking, but Blaine wouldn't have it. He parked his bike firmly in front of me and said, and I quote, 'If you don't get on this bike Kurt Hummel I don't know what I'll have to do. I'm sorry that I upset you, but you have to listen to me just one more time.' The look on his face was so earnest that I decided that I just had to get on, no matter how angry I was. So I climbed up in front of him and let him pedal off to where ever he was planning on taking me. We went past the church, the baseball field, the pharmacy where Blaine worked, and out of the suburbs to the old, deserted forest…"

_ "Blaine, where are you taking me?"_ _Blaine jumped off of the bike, and motioned for Kurt to do the same. Kurt huffed and used his palms to spread the wrinkles out from his pants and shirt. "I said, where are you taking me, Blaine?"_

_ "You're just going to have to trust me now, aren't you?" Blaine replied and he grabbed his rusty bicycle_ _by its handles, walking it deeper into the thicket of trees and bushes. Kurt rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and followed Blaine towards whatever "special" place he had in mind. He watched Blaine's face; the usual excitement in his eyes was gone and his face looked stony. Blaine didn't dare look at Kurt once. _

_ "Blaine, I spent well-deserved money on these shoes. If I ruin them, I blame you. Got that?" Kurt joked. But Blaine only nodded and kept trekking through the wood, listening to the birds in the high above branches and trying to mimic their tune. Kurt bit his lip, anxious to learn why Blaine was being so quiet. Blaine was always chattering up a storm with his gab about new books or annoying teachers in school. 'If he doesn't want to say anything then I'm not going to make him,' Kurt thought, and he continued following a silent Blaine through the forest. _

_ Within fifteen minutes, Blaine had led Kurt to an old, old oak tree. "It's beautiful," Kurt whispered to no one in particular._

_ "It really is, isn't it?" Kurt snapped his head around at the sound of the voice coming from the well-groomed boy leaning against the tree with his bike parked next to him. Kurt nodded mutely, digging his hands into his pockets and kicking his feet in the dirt awkwardly. Kurt avoided Blaine's gaze until he reached the tree, where he sunk down and rested on a shaded patch of grass, courtesy of the oak's long arms. Blaine sat down next to him, picking at a weed and shredding its leaves. "There's a reason I brought you here," Blaine said, interrupting the silence. _

_ Kurt laughed, "well, I hoped so."_

_ Blaine grinned, changing the subject. "You know how earlier today Patsy asked you to the Sadie Hawkins dance, and you said no, so I asked you why not, and you said it was because she wasn't your type?" Blaine rambled._

_ Kurt sighed. 'Here we go again.' "Yes. I do remember that."_

_ "I kind of wanted to bring you out here to tell you what my type is…"_

_ Kurt's eyes widened and a faint, sharp pain (which he refused to recognize) jolted in his chest. "You brought me all the way out here to tell me who you're interested in?" Blaine confirmed that, yes, Kurt was correct. "Why, Blaine? You could have just told me at school, or the pharmacy, or your house! We didn't need to come all the way out here!" Kurt flung his hands around to emphasize his astonishment._

_ But Blaine stayed calm and kept that same stoic look on his face. "I did have to tell you out here, Kurt. Because…because I don't want anyone else to know."_

_ Kurt cocked his head. "What? Why not?"_

_ Blaine pressed his lips together, taking his gaze off of Kurt. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, Kurt. A lot of thinking. I've gone to church and prayed, and prayed, and prayed, but nothing's changed. " Kurt was confused. Thinking about what? Praying about what? "I guess I've always felt this way, but now…it's different." Blaine lifted his honey-hazel eyes up to Kurt's aqua ones. "And Kurt, no matter what happens after I tell you this, I want you to promise mot to run away. I want to talk about this with you because you are the only person I trust." He pulled in a breath of air. "I'm homosexual, Kurt." It was a whisper so quiet it couldn't have been heard two feet away from him. But Kurt caught it. Kurt raised his hands to his mouth, constricting any sound from coming out of his voice box. As if he could say something. "Say something, Kurt. I still don't know what to do about any of this because I'm so confused and I'm so scared. I need help. If my parents found out, they would beat me to pieces! Come on, Kurt, you have to say something."_

_ Kurt drew in a shaky breath, and uncovered his mouth. He closed his eyes, squeezing them before muttering, "me too."_

_ Blaine jolted upright. "What?"_

_ "I can't be one hundred percent sure, but I just have these…feelings, and I don't know what to do with them, especially after I met you, and-" Kurt stopped, his entire body tensing up and his face draining its color. He hadn't said that, he just hadn't. He touched his gaping lips, his eyes tearing up. "I'm so sorry," he muttered, standing up shakily on his legs. "I'm so, so sorry, Blaine, I just-"_

_ "There's no reason to apologize," Blaine interrupted breathlessly, grabbing Kurt's hand. Blaine pulled Kurt down next to him once again. "Are you serious? That you really feel that way…I mean, about me?" Blaine asked shyly. Kurt swallowed thickly, his hands shaking, as he nodded. Kurt felt two fingers lift his chin up until his eyes locked with Blaine's. Blaine's thumb stroked Kurt's cheek cautiously, his eyes searching his friend's. Blaine eyes had a deep, questioning haze settled into them, but no matter what he was thinking, he began to move his face forward until his forehead rested on Kurt's. "Is-is this okay?" Blaine asked timidly._

_ "Yes."_

_ "Tell me if you want to stop. Please tell me."_

_ "I don't want you to stop."_

_ Blaine shuttered at the proximity of their faces as he cupped Kurt's jaw gently. "Can I kiss you?" The question hung in the air, waiting for its answer to let it tumble to the ground._

_ "Yes."_

_ "Are you sure?"_

_ "Yes, Blaine."_

_ Blaine leaned forwards, his flush, chapped lips pressing tenderly against Kurt's so delicately it made both boys let go of their tears. When Blaine pulled back nervously, they were both breathing jaggedly. "Was that okay?" Kurt responded with another kiss; fierce and passionate, dripping with the wonderment of 'what if?' Tears flooded both of their cheeks, leaking down the corners of their conjoined lips. One of Kurt's hands came up to shelter Blaine's face, while the other locked with Blaine's unoccupied fingers. Their lips caressed and molded together for a few more moments before they pulled away just enough to share a few words. "I feel the same way as you do, Kurt. And if you felt what I felt when we kissed then there can't be something wrong with us because that was…the most real thing I have ever felt with anyone." A tear rolled down his cheek._

_ Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine, resting his face on Blaine's shoulder and letting teardrops soak into Blaine's shirt. "I felt something, too. I really did. But I'm so scared, Blaine. People can't find out, Blaine. They can't."_

_ Blaine nuzzled his nose in Kurt's hair. "Then we won't tell them. I know you're confused; so am I, but I don't want to do go through any of this alone. We'll figure this out together. I promise…"_

"And that's how it happened," Kurt explained, stretching his arms over his head. "It was pretty dramatic now that I think of it."

Naomi just shook her head in disbelief. How could he say that? Aside from when Jack died and Rose was screaming his name, it was the most romantic thing she had ever heard. It was a tragic story of…love? Naomi didn't know, but that only increased the emotion of it all. "That's so romantic, Kurt. I can't believe you didn't tell me about Blaine before!"

"I don't normally talk about it. Actually, I never talk about it. It's a sore spot," Kurt answered.

Naomi perked up at that. A sore spot? Why? "Did something happen with Blaine, Kurt?" she asked sympathetically.

Kurt's eyes hardened and he set his jaw firmly. "No."

"I'm not trying to push for details, Kurt, but I think you should open up about your experience. Get it off your chest, you know?" She offered him a smile, but Kurt only looked at her with bitter distaste and stayed quiet.

"I think your time is up for today, Naomi," Kurt muttered solemnly. "It's 2:15, already."

"Kurt, I didn't mean to upse-"

"Not now, Naomi." He stood from his chair and pushed his front door open. Naomi could have sworn she saw tears glistening in Kurt's eyes. "Not now."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I. Am. So. Sorry! I was planning on updating sooner, but one thing led to another and I realized that it was the 24****th****. Crap. I need a new calendar. Anyways, thanks for the reviews and alerts guys! Spread the word about this story to your friends:) So, there's a new OC in this chapter, and you'll be seeing a lot of her (even though she has been mentioned in the past). I really hope you like what you read! Let me know:)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own glee! Quit reminding me! (I'm a poet, and I didn't even know it!)**

* * *

><p><em>"You realize that the bible says it's wrong, right? That we are tossing away everything we have been taught?" Kurt asked. Since the day he and Blaine had…you know, Kurt had been pondering the dangers and moral differences of relating with Blaine instead of a dame.<em>

_ "I do realize that, Kurt," Blaine answered calmly, lounging against the oak. Kurt and Blaine had been coming up to rest at the old oak tree every Sunday after church for the past two weeks to solely speak to each other about their feelings. Neither of them had any guidance, nor they didn't know anything about homosexuality besides the fact that they were both experiencing it. But recently, the biggest issue the two boys had run into was if they were supposed to follow the word of God, or their hearts. _

_ "But, Kurt, if God wants us to find love, then why would he curse us with total damnation? Why would God discriminate against love? Besides, we aren't tossing away everything we believe in. _ You_ still go to church. _ I_ still go to church. How have we sinned if all we are doing is loving?" _

_ Kurt scanned the worn pages of his leather bible, tracing holy verses with his index finger. It was a present to him from his father for his tenth birthday, and he had cared for it lovingly ever since. "But if the bible says it's wrong…then I don't know what to believe. Through everything that has changed in my lifetime, God has always helped me get through it. He has always been there, Blaine. And I know that you feel the same way."_

_ Blaine sighed, his head throbbing from the power of the conversation. He rubbed his temples to ease his thought process, but the questions kept arising. "I honestly don't know what to say, Kurt. My religion has always been constant for me, too. It was the one thing that I could always count on. But now…I'm not so sure. I'm not so sure about anything at all, as a matter of fact."_

_ Kurt looked taken aback and shocked, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. "A-are you saying that-th-that you…don't believe in God anymore, Blaine?" he whispered, leaning in towards the other teenager._

_ "What! No, I didn't say that I didn't believe in God, per say, I just don't know what to think about…well about everything, now that you mention it." Blaine rested his head on his hands, his back propped against the bark. "I really…don't know what to do about any of what's going on between…us."_

_ There was a cold, hardening silence freezing the air with dense doubt and guilt, as the two boys sat still a god two feet away from each other. If anything, the kiss they had shared had decreased the time they spent together, not made them closer, because of the deep fear pummeling in their chests. They both hated how afraid they were of the attraction between them, but no matter how much (or little) they thought about it, the anxiety only swelled in their minds._

_ Kurt coughed and broke the pause in the conversation. "Do you not want-" he motioned in between himself and Blaine, "-us to work out."_

_ Blaine's eyes sank to a closed position with despair, and his fingers dug into the rich ground beneath the bumpy roots of the oak tree. "The last thing I want is for us to not work out, Kurt. You're tops, Kurt, and I'm absolutely stuck on you. I'm probably going to sound stupid for saying so, but being out here with you…well, it's the best part of my week. Not boxing down at the community center, or practicing for church choir, but being with you. And I hate to admit it, but that scares me. I may be a coward sometimes, but I don't want to let you go because you make me feel things that I've never felt before. You know that thing that people say about love at first sight?"_

_ Kurt snapped his head up and made a funny, little squeak in the back of his throat. "L-love?"_

_ Blaine's eyes widened to the size of the golden setting sun behind the trees. "NO! I-I mean, it's not that I don't love you but- wait, no. That's not wh-"_

_ "Because it's okay if you do. Love me, I mean." Kurt's eyes were glued to the sprouting weed he was twiddling between his fingers. Blaine was quiet, just staring at the hair on Kurt's bowed head. As if on cue, Kurt looked up into Blaine's eyes with a shady, crimson blush tattooed on his cheeks. "B-but you probably don't, because y-you just said- oh gosh, um, I guess it was just a misunderstanding. You meant that you liked me, not love. Love is a very strong word that neither of us are ready t-to use, and, and, and, we just figured out that we have these new…feelings at all, so I understand completely."_

_ Blaine cheeks reddened, too, his teeth digging into his lip and beads of sweat collecting at his hairline. "No. You were right. I-I meant that I l-love you. I took it back because…because I thought that you wouldn't return the feelings, and that you would run away from me," Blaine affirmed. "I was scared." _

_ "You have no reason to be afraid of me." Kurt grabbed Blaine's shaking hand and lifted it to his own heart. "Do you feel my pulse?" Blaine nodded, pressing his palm closer to the rapid heartbeat. It was the greatest sensation in the world; feeling the pumping heart that kept the beautiful boy in front of him alive. "That's because of you."_

_ Blaine lifted Kurt's hand off the ground, and placed it on his heart as well. "That's because of you, too." Blaine let Kurt's warm fingers splay across his stuttering chest, as he rested his head on Kurt's shoulder and blew warm air on to his neck. "But as I was saying earlier…the thing about true love at first sight?" Kurt nodded shakily. "I had a weird feeling the whole night of Junior Prom. A good feeling, that's for sure, but it was strange and alien to me. My entire body seemed sort of numb, if you subtract my flip-flopping stomach."_

_ Kurt giggled lightly, burying his nose deeper into Blaine's shirt. "I had butterflies in my stomach, too. I had no feelings for anyone before you, so I had didn't have a past experience to go off of. I knew I wasn't interested in any girls, but that didn't mean I was ever interested in any boys."_

_ "I was the same way." Blaine clung his fingers around Kurt's pressed button down shirt that he had worn for the church service earlier that day. It smelled clean and fresh, and Blaine thought that the smell mixed very well with the earthy fragrance of the forest surrounding them. It was oddly comforting, being wrapped up in each other's arms, cradled by the privacy of the low-lying pine and oak branches. It felt free and…nice._

_ "Hey, Blaine?"_

_ "Yes."_

_ "I love you."_

_ "I might say the same about you…"_

* * *

><p>"GOAL!"<p>

"You just got lucky!"

"GOAL!"

"There was no strategy behind that shot!" Naomi sat begrudgingly at a lunch table, her eyebrows tangled together with frustration and her fingers clenched around a lined-paper football. Her best friend, Peyton, sat across from her, a triumphant grin on her face.

"Does not having a strategic plan behind a move not make it a move?" Peyton asked. Naomi only huffed and morphed her face into a pout, arms crossed. "Hey now. What's got you down, Nami?"

Naomi sighed. After everything that they had been through, the distrust, the betrayal, the slurs, Peyton still new Naomi well enough to know when something was off. It was like her sixth sense, and even though it could get infuriatingly annoying, in all it was a helpful trait. "You know how I've been volunteering at Columbus Hills?"

"You still working with the old guy?" Peyton asked, gnawing on a carrot stick.

"Yes, I'm still working with _Kurt._ That's kind of what this is all about anyway, so you might want to learn his name. But that's beside the point. The point is that I was talking with Kurt, asking him if he was still open to getting to know on a romantic level, and I specifically asked him about this one woman who he seemed to have his eye on." Peyton nodded. "Well, turns out, he's gay."

Peyton perked up, her brow twitching. "You're working with an old, gay guy? Fascinating."

Naomi rolled her eyes at her friend's sarcasm. "Would you at least let me get to the actual story itself? You know, for someone so invested in our friendship, you would think you would let me finish my sentences."

"Don't underestimate my love for you, Nami. I may show it in some odd ways, but it's there."

"'Course it is. As I was saying, turns out Kurt met this guy named Blaine in high school and they came to terms with their sexuality together. It was really hush-hush, so you could imagine the stress it caused on both of them, and they were all alone in the process." Naomi rubbed the back of her neck. "Kind of like you were."

Peyton frowned and became serious, lips pursed, eyes trained on Naomi. "Can we not talk about that, right now."

Naomi blushed, embarrassed. "Right. I shouldn't have brought it up. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Let's move on. Where were we?"

"Okay, let's see…oh yeah, so I asked Kurt whay he hadn't told me about this guy earlier and he said because it was a 'sore spot.' Me being me, I prodded my way in and he just closed off."

Peyton looked confused. "What do you mean by 'closed off?'"

"When I asked if anything had happened to Blaine and asked if Kurt needed to talk about it, he made me leave."

"Ooh, harsh," Peyton responded.

"Yeah, I know. And I've really taken it to heart. My next session with him is this afternoon, and I don't know how he's going to handle it. I'm wondering if he'll let me back in his room again."

Peyton reached over the table and squeezed Naomi's hand. It was Peyton's signature sign of comfort that Naomi had really began to connect with after the suicide attempt. "Don't say that. He's probably over it by now anyway, if he hasn't already forgotten," she sniggered.

"Kurt's not like that, Peyton. He doesn't seem old, not to me at least. He's just lonely and needs a friend. Maybe you could come with sometime; I bet you two would really connect seeing as you've both experienced coming to terms with your sexuality and all. I know you would like him."

Peyton shrugged, "maybe. Or maybe this is your chance to really change Kurt. Maybe this is your chance to make a difference all on your own. You can't always depend on your gay friend to save the day."

Naomi laughed. "I'm not asking you to make it better, but it would be nice if you met him. You both mean a lot to me." She gripped Peyton's hand.

"I would like that. But for now, you should try to patch up some stuff with Kurt. Apologize for butting in when you get the chance and let him know that you're there if he ever needs to talk. And if he doesn't come around, let the staff know that you're taking a break for a few days and give him some time. No matter what happens, it will all work out. It was one misunderstanding, and I doubt that any one wouldn't forgive you. You have your ways…"

"Thanks. I'm glad you're here when I'm in need of a pep-talk."

"Any time, Nami. Any time."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Helloooo out there! If you saw anything funky with the updating and removal, I'm sorry, my computer sucks sometimes. 4,000+ words? No! He-he! **

**I want you all to check out the lonely reviews. Lonely! I am so lonelyyy! I haaave nobodyyyy, to call my oooowwwwn! Yeah, that's how my story feels...:'( But thank you to anyone who has favorited, alerted, or reviewed this story. I love y'all! *Distributing Virtual Hugs***

**Moving on. There has been mention of religion in this tory, and I just want people to know that I am not a religious person. I did research for this story, so everything should check out fine, but if something really offends you, let me know:) Also, there is mention of the civil rights movement in this chapter, and there will be more talk about political issues in the future. I'm passionate about this stuff, so I write about it. If you don't like it, don't read it. AND DON'T SPREAD HATE:) Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee! Quit reminding me! **

_Knock, knock, knock. _

The sound of knuckles rapping on a door had never sounded louder, but even with the excessive noise, the door didn't open.

_Knock, knock, knock_.

Naomi waited outside of room 912 in a dimly lit corridor, clacking her painted fingernails together to provide some form of entertainment for her quivering fingers. She waited and waited, twiddling with her bangs, and messing with the strap of her bag. Naomi checked her silver watch, a gift from her older sister, noticing the big hand nudge towards the one. _Crap, why isn't he answering? _Naomi wondered anxiously. _Is he really still mad at me? Maybe he's sick? No, someone would have told me. Why did I have to go and screw this up? _Naomi knocked one more time, waiting for a response, and when there was none she made her way back down the corridor only to bump into a flustered, elderly man.

"I'm really sorry, miss, but I have somewhere I h- Naomi?" Kurt's eyes widened at Naomi's surprised face. "Oh my goodness, Naomi I am so sorry I wasn't at the door! I was down in the…in the lobby, and I lost track of time," Kurt rambled, one hand on each of her shoulders.

Naomi placed her hand over her heart, catching her breath from the scare of running into Kurt and laughed. "Jesus, Kurt, you really know how to freak a girl out!"

Worry graced Kurt's features, as he led Naomi to his door, unlocking it in the process. "I'm so sorry, Naomi. I lost track of time, and I, well I-" Kurt sighed, defeated, and hung his head, "-I don't have an excuse.

Naomi smiled and followed Kurt into his room. "It's no problem, Kurt, honestly there's nothing to get so worked up about."

Kurt shot her an apologetic look, and blushed. "I guess this old brain is really getting to me, then."

"Don't say that!" Naomi scolded. "Your brain is perfectly fine the way it is. I rather like your brain, in fact."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Kurt chuckled.

Naomi smiled back, and settled herself into her regular armchair, resting her bag on the floor beneath her. She rolled her neck, and stretched her arms, getting comfortable in her seat before Kurt sat down in front of her, a mug of tea in his hands. Naomi gave Kurt a sympathetic look. "Kurt, I just want you to know how sorry I am for butting into your personal life the way I did yesterday. I overstepped, and I hope you can forgive me for it."

Kurt stared into his swirling mug of cream and earl grey tea, his facial muscles relaxed and aligned in a sweet smile. "It's okay, Naomi," Kurt offered politely, "I over-reacted a bit, too. But let's move on, shall we. You don't want to hear my old tales anyway." He gazed at Naomi kindly, "I want to hear more about your life. I need your youth."

Naomi gazed back, "what do you want to know?"

Kurt pondered the question for a minute, silently concocting a worthy answer. When his eyes lit up like faded lanterns, Naomi knew he had his answer. "What do you want in the future? You only have a little longer until you leave the house."

"If by a little bit longer you mean two years, the yes I'll be leaving the house soon."

Kurt grinned. "You know what I mean. Give me your biggest desire, what you want so desperately but you refuse to share with anyone."

"Anyone?"

"No one."

Naomi sighed heavily, thinking. "I really want to move out to California. The Bay Area to be exact. I went there with my dad on business when I was ten, and I've been longing to go back."

"Six years ago, you say? You must be pretty invested."

Naomi nodded, "yes, sir." That was why she loved spending time with Kurt. Aside from Peyton, he was the only person he could be completely truthful with.

"But what about once you get there? There's got to be something more than that."

Naomi tilted her head in confusion. "What do you mean?" _More? There never was a more… _

"A dream, perhaps? Everyone has a dream. I know I did," Kurt elaborated.

Naomi stared a hole into Kurt's mug, biting her tongue. She never let big dreams cross her mind because of how they could turn out. Ignored, stepped-on, crushed. That would have been too much to handle, so she never let dreams cross her mind. "Will a goal do? I have plenty of those…" Kurt nodded. "I really want to go to law school, be an equal rights lawyer, you know?"

Kurt smiled brightly. "What brought that on?"

"I guess I just want to help people. I always have, but my friend, Peyton, really solidified it for me. The one who tried to…yeah."

"That's very inspiring, Naomi. There are a lot of people out there who could benefit from what you have to offer. I know the importance of finding a good lawyer when you need one, and I'm sure that your services will be well acquired."

"Thanks. That's sweet of you to say."

"Well, it's the truth."

They both sat in the simple quiet atmosphere, sun streaming in from a nearby window followed by the distant sound of a chattering couple in the courtyard outside of Kurt's room. Naomi snapped her head towards the sound, instantly standing up and grabbing her bag from the ground. "Feel like taking a walk?"

* * *

><p>The weather was gorgeous, considering the season, and there were people strolling every which way.<p>

"May I ask you sudden intentions for needing to go on a walk?"

Naomi kicked a pebble off of the sidewalk. "No reason. But it's such a lovely day; I thought that we should make the best of it." The pair walked on for a matter of minutes, relishing in the beauty of the spindly, leaf-free branches twisting up towards the baby-blue sky. It was the ultimate image of winter. The only down side was the quiet…"Kurt?" Naomi asked, in a moment of inspiration.

"Yes?"

"Has there ever been a day in your life that you'll never forget? Like when MLK was assassinated? Or when the Vietnam War ended?"

Kurt stopped walking. He couldn't have walked if he wanted to. Everyone had that one day in their life that they will always remember every detail about, no matter how much significance the day actually had. Kurt's…well Kurt's had significance. Plenty of it.

* * *

><p><em>"Kurt, we can't do this!" Blaine yanked the pole of the cardstock sign Kurt was holding out of Kurt's grasp and onto the floor.<em>

_ "We have to, Blaine! Think about all the people we would let down if we didn't. Think of how you would feel if you didn't do it," Kurt lectured, picking up the sign. __**END SEGREGATED RULES IN PUBLIC SCHOOLS, **__it read in thick, black letters. "Think of our friends, Blaine! Think of Mercedes, and Matt, and Joseph, and Nellie! Think about what they are going through everyday, Blaine. Isn't it a little bit selfish of you to not go out there for your own safety, when people have discriminated them their entire lives?"_

_ Blaine sighed. "You know I want to, Kurt, you know I do. But what if we get hurt? What if you get hurt? I can't put you in a place where you could get in trouble, or worse, be in danger!"_

_ Kurt rolled his eyes, wanting to shake Blaine. "I know how to be safe, Blaine! I can take care of myself." He slung the sign over his shoulder, turning away from Blaine and marching towards the growing group of people._

_ Blaine ran out to him, catching his arm in the middle of the street. "I know that you know how to take care of your self. But if you got hurt, I wouldn't be able to live with myself because I know could have prevented it! I can't let you go out there knowing that there's a possibility of you being in danger." Blaine's eyes locked tightly with Kurt's, and he tried to convey his message through his facial expression. He loved Kurt too much to let him get into a situation like this. He wanted Kurt to go out there and fight, sure, but there was too much of a risk. _

_ Kurt gazed into Blaine's scared eyes, but his stance didn't change. He moved in really close to Blaine, pulling him on to the sidewalk and whispered in his ear. "If there were a demonstration fighting for people like us, but there was a chance that you could get into trouble, would you still go?" Blaine stood still, avoiding Kurt's lingering eyes. "Would you fight for your own kind, Blaine?" Kurt murmured again. When Blaine didn't answer for the second time, Kurt pulled away and shared a disgusted look with the other boy. "I can't believe you." With that, Kurt shoved his way past Blaine on to the crowded street to catch up with the march, but before he got there he turned once more to glare at Blaine. "I'm so disappointed in you."_

_ Blaine watched him leave and disappear into the crowd, anger flowing from his reddened face into his heart. His breaking, throbbing heart. Blaine let out a pained sob, and ran down the street, away from the march, away from Kurt, and away from Lima. He ran all the way to the oak tree._

_ "Two, four, six, eight, schools have gotta integrate! Two, four, six, eight schools have gotta integrate!" Kurt yelled, passion streaming wildly through his veins, arms linked with one of his best friends, Mercedes. Cameras flashed brightly in his eyes and sirens blasted, only making the protestors chant louder. _

"_Two, four, six, eight, schools have gotta integrate!" Mercedes screamed, her face flushed and anger in her mahogany eyes. But they softened as she turned to Kurt. "How ya holding up, Kurt? Feet sore yet?"_

_ Kurt laughed. "Don't worry about me, 'Cedes, I'm not stopping until you get the right to apply to whatever college you want, not just NYU."_

_ Mercedes tightened her arm around Kurt's, squeezing him with her elbow. "You're something special, ya know that?"_

_ "Nah, just regular Kurt Hummel."_

_ Mercedes shared a serious stare with Kurt. "You're marching with a bunch'a black folks so we get the right to go to school. You're more than special."_

_ Kurt smiled humbly before looking back in front of him, over a large man's shoulders, to the setting sun. The sirens were louder. "Two, four , six, eight, schools have gotta integrate!" His voice was hoarse, but Kurt didn't care as he yelled and screamed with all his might, bobbing the heavy sign above his head. _

_ Within a half of an hour, the sun was gone, and the crowd was traveling by flashlight and moonlight. That is, they were, until Kurt bumped into the large man in front of him and noticed that he had gone still. Everyone was still. Kurt was confused until he heard a powerful voice coming from the front of the crowd. _

_ "You have no right walking these streets! You are occupying public space!" _

_ "We have every right. As you just said, this is public space, and we are the public." People cheered, waving their signs in the air._

_ "If you folks don't leave we are going to have to arrest you," the voice commanded._

_ Hollers of anger and frustration rang through the air. "Under what charge?"_

_ "Violation of public space."_

_ Yells and chants echoed forcefully, and Kurt joined in as well, pushing his fear down his throat. Soon enough, they were moving forward again, chanting louder than they ever had before. Kurt thought that the noise was almost unreal; too loud. The chanting grew, and grew, and grew-_

_**BANG!**_

_ Kurt froze, the guttural fear rising back up to his throat along with bitter bile as he heard piercing screams following the recognizable gunshot. 'Oh, lord, no. No, no, no, this can't be happening,' Kurt thought as he backed away quickly, trying to shove people out of the way, and grabbing Mercedes's arm to get away. That was all that mattered. Getting away. More gunshots fired, each time injected with blood-curdling screams from mothers, and fathers, and sisters, and brothers. Kurt kept running with the slow-moving crowd, dragging Mercedes with him. _

_ "Oh, God, Kurt, what do we do?" cried the girl, sobs choking her breath._

_ "Calm down, 'Cedes, everything is going to be okay." Kurt scrambled through the throng of shouting people, kicking and shoving anyone in his way._

_ Mercedes's breath was un-even and sharp, and she laid a hand on her heart to keep it from jumping out of her chest. "I'm s-so s-sor-sorry, Kurt-t! I had n-no id-idea!"_

_ Kurt pulled her closer to him, dodging an elderly man who was sitting peacefully on the sidewalk, praying into his hands. "There's no way you could have know. No one could have known." _

_ Sirens behind them shrilled painfully close to their ears, tires rolling over the streets they had marched on. Engines stopped, car doors slammed, and Kurt and Mercedes were tackled to the ground, still holding each other's hands in a death grip. _

_ "Get off!" Mercedes screamed, as her hand was ripped from Kurt's, only to be locked in handcuffs. Kurt felt his wrist being shoved painfully behind his back, as cold metal bound them together and made a tell-take licking sound. Tears rolled down his cheeks. _

_ The officer on Kurt's back spoke. "Put 'em in the van. I'll start roundin' up the rest of 'em with the boys."_

_ "No! We didn't do anything!" Mercedes shouted, as she was yanked off of the pavement and hauled into the van headed for the county jail with Kurt. "Kurt, say something!" But Kurt stayed silent, as another man was loaded on to the seat next to him. "Kurt!" Mercedes yelled again, but Kurt just shook his head._

_ "It's not worth it, 'Cedes. Save your energy…"_

_ Blaine's feet were sore once he got home. He had run to the old oak tree after Kurt had left, and once he'd finished crying his eyes out over his confusing love for Kurt, ran back to his dorm room on the east-side of New York University. Kurt and Blaine had both been accepted there after high school and readily packed their bags together, wanting to rid themselves from the small town in Ohio. When they got to the school, they had the option to room together, but because of their…feelings and the fear of rumors getting out, Kurt and Blaine decided to dorm with other people. Blaine was sent to room with a lanky, basketball player named Jack who, when Blaine walked in, was lounging on their sofa, studying for a chemistry exam. _

_ Jack looked up, and the glum, heaving boy who had just stepped inside. "Geez, Blaine. Who rained on your parade?"_

_ Blaine shook his head, flopping on to the opposite side of the sofa and cracking open his history textbook. "Nothin' to worry about, Jack."_

_ "Nothin'? I don't believe that for a second, Anderson."_

_ "Leave me alone, Jack," Blaine answered, reaching over the sofas armrest to turn on the little radio they had in their dorm. "I have to study."_

_ Jack laughed. "Right. Study. With the radio, huh? Is that the way they do it this day in age?"_

_ "Shut your trap, Wise Guy," Blaine mumbled, finally retrieving the signal he was looking for. He leaned back, receiving a grumble from his roommate, and listened peacefully to the nightly news, finally forgetting about-_

_ "And for our final story of the night we have a recent case of protestors being arrested down on Central Avenue." Blaine shot out of his seat, reaching for the volume dial on the radio. "The demonstrators were marching against segregation earlier tonight when they began violently disrupting the local community with their un-ethical ranting. It has recently been confirmed that one of the protestors even pulled a gun on one of the officers. Three men are confirmed to be dead, seven were severely injured, and fifty-three were taken into the custody of the police." Blaine's breath hitched and he broke out in a cold sweat. Before he knew it, he was sprinting out of his dorm, Jack's worried yells following fading in the distance. All Blaine could think about was getting to Kurt. Making sure that Kurt was safe._

_ "Excuse me?" Blaine asked the over-weight officer on duty, his face red from running. "I'm looking for Kurt Hummel. Was he…um, arrested earlier this evening?"_

_ The officer yawned, obviously uninterested, and checked a list on his clipboard. "Hummel? Yeah, we got him. You looking to file for bail, kid?"_

_ Blaine nodded fiercely, pushing down tears and the lump in his throat. "Yes…yes, bail. Of course. Can I- I don't know…see him?"_

_ "Kid, I can't let-"_

_ "Please, sir. He's my…cousin. I'm all he has out here in the city."_

_ The officer pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing a hand over his bald head. "Make it quick," he said leading Blaine towards the wall of Plexiglas, where he summoned Kurt._

_ When Kurt saw the face of his visitor, he opened his mouth without a sound. His eyes were swollen from all of the crying he had done, and his hands were shaking with fear. He sat down on the other side of the glass and picked up the phone opposite of Blaine. Blaine did the same._

_ For a moment, neither of them spoke and only stared at one another with big eyes and broken hearts. Kurt spoke first. "How'd you find out?"_

_ "Radio," Blaine replied solemnly._

_ Kurt nodded, his head down. "Right." He looked through the glass at the man across from him. "I'm sorry for yelling. And calling you what I did. I don't think of you like that, and I feel awful about the entire situation. I should have listened to you anyway, and not gone. Three people are dead. One of them could have been me."_

_ "Don't say that!" Blaine practically shouted. "Don't you dare, Kurt. Your okay now, which is all that matters."_

_ Kurt shrugged, clearly holding in his sobs. "I should have listened."_

_ "If anyone should have listened, it should have been me," Blaine insisted. "I was a coward. I should have been there. With you."_

_ Kurt hurriedly swiped a stray tear off his cheek. "All you wanted was for me to be safe and I brushed it off. I didn't know the consequences."_

_ "Kurt, I'm proud of you for sticking up for your friends and everyone else who is discriminated against in this day in age. If I'm correct, you were the only white person there, right?" Kurt nodded. "That's amazing, Kurt! You should be proud of yourself. Don't tear yourself up about this, okay?"_

_ "I won't." Kurt clutched the phone with both of his hands to keep it from shaking._

_ "Good. Now I'm going to find a way to get you out of here, okay?"_

_ Kurt's eyes went wide. "No, no, Blaine! That's going to cost too much! They'll let me out in a day or so, there's no need to waste your money on me…"_

_ "I've got 500 bucks in my bank account saved up for an emergency, Kurt. Like it or not, this is an emergency. I'm getting you out of here if it's the last thing I do," Blaine insisted._

_ The moment Blaine finished his rant, the officer pulled Blaine away from the window, making him drop the phone, and led him out of the room. "Time's up." Blaine sighed, walking to the front desk and asking how much he would have to pay for bail. Blaine rested his head in his hands with frustration. "Well, dammit."_

* * *

><p>"Did you get bailed out? After all of that did you get out?" Naomi had listened intently to Kurt as he relayed his civil-rights story to her on the bench they had come to sit at. Kurt seemed shell-shocked the entire time, as if he was reading up his own biography for the first time, but he told Naomi the tale-word for word.<p>

"Unfortunately, no. Blaine scrambled for the extra cash, but two days later when I got out, he was still stuck at 500 dollars. It was very sweet of him, but I'm almost glad I stayed, as crazy as that sounds."

"Why? It sounded like you were terrified."

"At the time, yes, I was. I was stuck in a concrete cell for two days after being tackled to the ground by a police officer; there was no reason I wouldn't be. But looking back on it, I'm glad Blaine didn't bail me out because I had the time to reflect on what I did and why I did it."

Naomi rubbed her gloved hands together to keep her blood flowing, and blew hot air on them. "Well, I know that you went to the march because you cared bout the issue and your friends, but there had to have been a more personal reason for you to have gone to demonstration. If there hadn't been, you wouldn't have gone when Blaine told you not to."

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows at that, and closed his eyes shut as if he could see his words before he spoke them. "I guess…I did it because I would have wanted someone to do it for me."

"What do you mean?"

"March. For me. Or, for my sexual orientation." Naomi nodded in understanding. "That's why I got so angry with Blaine when I asked him if he would march for us, if we ever got the chance to."

"Did you ever get the chance? To march for people like you, I mean."

Kurt closed his eyes again, reading his words under his lids. "Now that, Naomi, is a story for another time."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hi guys! I really wanted to update earlier but I just graduated so I was uber-busy so I didn't have time. But now it's summer so I'll update a lot more! Please, please review:) Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee! Stop reminding me!**

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><p><em><strong>Boys Beware! <strong>__Blaine and Kurt blanched white at the spoken words emanating from the speaker. They had been listening to their favorite radio program together that played at eight o'clock each night, when they were interrupted by a public service announcement. __**Always be cautious of homosexuals. **__Both of the boys had heard the PSA before, but it had been years… __**They can and will harm you if you are not careful. **__Kurt turned his head to face Blaine, worry prominent in his blue-gray eyes seeping with tears._

_ Blaine wrapped Kurt protectively in his arms and pulled Kurt's head to rest on top of his own heart. "Shh, darling. Everything's gonna be okay. They don't know what they're talkin' about. Spreading lies, that's all." Blaine's roommate was spending the weekend with his parents down in Kentucky, so Kurt and Blaine were able to live freely with one another without further judgment._

_ Kurt listened to Blaine's rapid heartbeat through his sweater, trying to focus on the rhythm supposed to the PSA, but the words were only getting louder and louder in Kurt's ear. "Make it stop, Blaine. Make it stop!"_

_ Blaine reached to the radio to turn it off, quickly returning to Kurt's side, rubbing circles on his back. "You know it's not true what they say, right? I love you, and there has never been anything wrong with loving someone." He buried his face in Kurt's smooth hair, rocking them back and forth._

_ Kurt nuzzled Blaine's chest, hiccupping quietly. "But why can't they see, Blaine?"_

_ "See what?"_

_ "See that what we have is real! Sometimes even more real than what they have!"_

_ Blaine ushered Kurt closer to his heart. "I don't know, my love." They stayed entangled for hours, rocking and swaying on the little couch in Blaine's dorm. The warmth from each other's body radiated together to create a blanket of heat, enveloping the pair, and within the third hour of in-and-out sleep, the silence was too much for Blaine to handle. _

_ "Beautiful, beautiful blue eyes,_

_ Beautiful, beautiful blue…eyes._

_ Beautiful, beautiful blue eyes,_

_ I'll never see brown eyes again…"_

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><p>"Excuse me?" Naomi asked over the front desk of the old folks home. A middle-aged woman looked up from the desk with raised eyebrows. "Hi, I'm Naomi, Kurt's youth partner. I was wondering if he could go on a little field-trip this Saturday."<p>

The woman, who according to her nameplate was called Jan, opened up a file cabinet and pulled out a stack of papers. "Um… I wouldn't be sure that the establishment would let you drive him to- wait, where are you planning on going?"

"There's an event at my school that I think he would be interested in, so I thought it would be nice for him to go."

The woman nodded, scribbling something down on a sticky-note and pasting it to her calendar. "Sounds nice, I'm sure Mr. Hummel would be happy to accompany you. But back to my original question. I don't think that the establishment will let you drive him, seeing as you are only a volunteer, but I could arrange a shuttle to drop you off there, if that's okay."

Naomi smiled. "Oh, I couldn't drive him if I wanted to. I'm a volunteer at the event myself, so I can't leave to pick him up, but I can be there with him once he get's there. Can the shuttle drop him of at Crawford Country Day Private School around two p.m? Once he's there I can accompany him until, say…four? The shuttle could pick him up then?"

Jan gave a thumbs-up and motioned for Naomi to write down the address of the school, while she called the retirement home's shuttle driver to let him know. When Naomi was finished, she mouthed a big "thank you" to the woman and made her way down the corridor to Kurt's room.

Elderly men and women lined the halls and rooms of the retirement home pushing walkers and steadying themselves with canes. The lights were dimmed and Naomi strutted down the hall sharing smiles with familiar faces. Raymond, Cheryl, Cora, Bertie, Jocelyn, Parker, Kurt, Nellie…wait- Kurt? Naomi spun around back to the lean figure resting on a loveseat by the window in one of the sitting rooms connected to the hall. Kurt was faced away from her and his head was cocked on to the heel of his hand. He was staring out the clear pane at what seemed like nothing in particular and was… singing? Naomi slowly crept up behind the shaky voice and listened to the lyrics Kurt was crooning.

_Beautiful, beautiful blue eyes,_

_ Beautiful, beautiful blue…eyes._

The song was sweet and whispered through Kurt's chapped lips. Naomi didn't want to interrupt or scare him, seeing as the scene was so serene and intimate, but she was already running late...

"Ahem!" Naomi coughed as lightly as she could.

Kurt swung his head around, startled. "You scared me!" he laughed, placing a hand over his heart.

"Sorry. That was the opposite of what I was going for." Naomi shuffled her feet farther over to Kurt and tied her hands behind her back, awkwardly. She waited for a minute, twiddling her fingers then said, "are you ready to go? I mean, um, it's time for our session…"

"Oh! I'm sorry, I guess I lost track of time." Kurt stood up, brushing the dust and lint off his pants and motioned for Naomi to follow him back to his room, wary of the thick silence that followed his apology.

After walking to Kurt's room in utter quiet, Naomi spoke up to relieve the tension between the two of them. "What were you looking at- I mean through the window? Nothing specific caught my eye, so I was curious."

Kurt fiddled with his key in the lock and turned it warily. "Um, there's this lovely oak tree outside. It's comforting to look at every now and then. Not to mention the lack of activities in this place makes you go stir crazy."

Naomi nodded considerately, pacing behind Kurt into his room to her normal spot on the armchair across from Kurt. "May I ask why you're comforted by it? The tree?"

Kurt gapped, then quickly pursed his lips together. "I had one…in my yard, yes yard, when I grew up. It reminds me of, um, home, yes," Kurt fibbed.

Naomi bit the inside of her cheek, unconvinced by Kurt's lie, but she let it slide. "And I couldn't help but overhear you singing. The song and your voice were both beautiful. Where did you learn it- the song?"

Kurt's cheeks flared pink. "I…learned it from…my mother! Yes, my mother…" He looked away to avoid any more embarrassment from his obvious lie.

Naomi noticed his discomfort and played along. "Well, I liked it very much. I thought it suited you nicely."

Kurt looked guilty and smiled a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you," he whispered.

Naomi tilted her head and grinned at Kurt. She knew that he didn't learn the song from his mom… she just wished she knew who _actually_ taught it to him.

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><p><em> "That's a gorgeous song, Blaine."<em>

_ "Well, it's about you. How couldn't it be gorgeous?" Blaine asked sarcastically, rubbing his nose into Kurt's hair._

_ "Gee whiz, cocky and complimentary at the same time. Who knew?" Kurt rolled his red eyes and burrowed his face deeper in Blaine's shirt. "But your voice is stunning. It makes me swoon. You're like my very own Frank Sinatra."_

_ Blaine chuckled. "I don't know about that-"_

_ "Don't start being humble now, Blaine. I love you and your voice. Where did you learn it?"_

_ Blaine squeezed Kurt closer to himself at the declaration of affection. It made his stomach sink, and once it went as far down as it could, it would flip and then bounce upwards again. "My ma used to sing it to me so I would go to sleep. I was a light sleeper as a kid. Granted, she would say brown eyes instead of blue, but I think blue is much more… magical. Or should I say _your_ eyes are magical."_

_ Kurt smirked. "Stop it, you're making me blush."_

_ "That's my job, isn't it?"_

_ "Making me flustered?" Kurt couldn't stop smiling, face red, and his teeth biting his lower lip. _

_ "Of course, my beautiful blue eyed boy."_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Reeeeaaadeeerrrsss! Hellooo? Hey, guys, drop me some reviews! I love 'em, yum, yum. So, just a note that I forgot from last chapter. Wait, two notes. The song is one my mom used to sing for me, and if I had a link to it I would share it:( Also, the little radio message is real! It's on YouTube and was aired on TV in the 50's. It really sickens me. Eugh. But moving on, I want to clear some stuff up. 1. Blaine never went to Dalton, and neither did Kurt, so while he has heard about it and seen it with Blaine, he never attended there and did not meet Blaine there. 2. There will be character death mentioned in this story. I'm really sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but this isn't your story if it does. **

**Glee is not mine. Rawr.**

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><p>"Hey Kurt?" Naomi looked up at the graying man bent over, and steeping a pot of tea.<p>

"Hmmm?" Kurt asked, turning his head.

"So, I asked the front desk lady today if you could go on a little field trip this Saturday. Does that intrigue you at all?" She got up from her chair to fetch her mint tea Kurt had made her, blowing over the mug's edge to cool off the drink. "I think it would be good for you to get out of this place for an afternoon, don't you?"

Kurt stirred a spoon around in his cup of tea that made a clinking sound every time it hit the porcelain. "What did you have in mind?"

"My school is having a big event and we are encouraged to invite community members to come. I thought you might like it since… well, I'll keep that part a surprise," Naomi said, winking her left eye.

"Surprise, eh? What makes you think I like surprises?" Kurt questioned jokingly.

"I just think that you would enjoy the experience more if you walked into an event without knowing what it is. I know I would if I were you."

"Oh, so it's personal? May I suggest that this celebration is in honor of yours truly?" Kurt asked, formicating a British accent with sly smirk on his lips.

Naomi played along, and using her own proper intonation she said, "I hold no responsibility to answering your question, sir. You'll just have to wait and see."

* * *

><p><em>"Blaine! Slow down!" Kurt laughed while he gripped on to Blaine's bicycle handlebars and tipped his head back to face the sun.<em>

_ "We've gotta be back in time for Sunday Service, Kurt. We don't got time to 'slow down,'" Blaine sassed, pedaling even faster down the dirt road. _

_ "We don't have time, Blaine. _Have_ time, not got time," Kurt enunciated. Blaine's grammar was never very proficient. Kurt thought it would get better through college, but once they got to New York, Blaine started hanging around the school's gym to fit in some extra boxing time and picked up some bad habits along the way from the guys who trained there. To Kurt's dismay, his grammar wasn't the only thing that had gotten worse. After joining the gym, he had picked up smoking- one of Kurt's biggest pet peeves- that had made Blaine's beautiful church-choir voice rasp and stick. But ever the optimist, Kurt was trying to get Blaine back on the right track with constant grammatical reminders and frequent insistences that he at least try to quit smoking. _

_ "Got; have. Tomato, to-mah-to. Potato, po-tah-to. Big difference! Get off my case, Kit Kat," Blaine teased._

_ "Then stop smoking. You made your side of the deal, now I've made mine."_

_ Blaine rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah." He kept pumping his legs on the pedals, pushing him and Kurt through the thickening forest. They were both on spring break from NYU and visiting home for Easter. They were leaving the next day and Blaine had insisted that they go see their oak tree where they first kissed for old time's sake. _

_ In the time that they had been gone from Ohio, the vast forest had overgrown with weeds and awkwardly placed roots. The road had gotten bumpier from the little use it was given and the patches of sunlight and blue-skies had gotten thinner due to the stretch of the oak, ash, juniper, and maple tree branches. Blaine's bike bounced hurriedly down the knotted path when they lurched forward, toppling down over a patch of dewy grass and mud. _

_ Kurt was the first one to complain. "Blaine Anderson! Look what you've done!" he screeched picking the dirt off of his pants and wiping the mud and grass stains away from his shirt and skin to the best of his ability._

_ "Are you okay? You didn't hurt yourself did ya?" Blaine asked with concern, crawling over to Kurt. Courteous and selfless as always._

_ "If you ignore the condition of my new shirt then yes, I'm fine," Kurt responded with exasperation in his words. He looked over to Blaine, who was picking dirt and pebbles off his palms. His eyebrows were scrunched together just barely covering his… teary eyes? "Blaine, what's wrong? Do your hands hurt?"_

_ Blaine shook his head, picking the dirt out of his fingernails. "Nah, don't worry about me, Kit Kat. I'm fine."_

_ "What's eating you?" Kurt asked, copying the body language his father used with him when he was down. He scooted closer to Blaine, and bumped his shoulder playfully. "Was is something I did?"_

_ Blaine's head shot up to reveal his blown, watery-hazel eyes. "No! No, no it wasn't you." He sighed at Kurt's confusion. "Sorry I wrecked your shirt. I know it was important to ya and all."_

_ "Of course it was important to me!" Kurt practically yelled, laughing a bit and waving his arms. Blaine flinched and lowered his head. Kurt followed, "wait, Blaine… are you upset about my…shirt?"_

_ Blaine chuckled dryly and rubbed his eyes. "No, erm- well, I guess, kinda."_

_ "Come on, Blaine. You know you can talk to me." Kurt grabbed Blaine's hands in his._

_ "You're gonna think it's stupid," Blaine mumbled. _

_ Kurt ducked his head to meet Blaine's eyes. "I'm not going to think it's stupid," he said honestly. _

_ Blaine stared deeply at Kurt with disbelief. "I mess everything up, Kurt! Don't you get tired of spending so much of your time with a screw-up? Look at me! I just trashed my bike and landed us in a mud puddle! Gosh, I love ya more than life itself, but sometimes I think that you would do good without me…" he trailed off._

_ Kurt released Blaine's hands to caress his jaw. "Blaine, you think that I would leave you because of a shirt? Or a trashed bike? You're more than that Blaine, and it breaks my heart that you don't know that," Kurt whispered. "Most people don't find love, Blaine. I'm not letting mine go." Blaine brought his finger tips up to grace over Kurt's on his skin, and he began to close his eyes. The heat from their contact sunk through their flesh, into their stomachs, bursting with butterflies. Kurt traced Blaine's eyelids and lashes coated with tears, and moved his way down Blaine's face to memorize the angles and contours of his complexion. Kurt clasped the hands of the boy opposite of him, dragging him out of the muck they were sitting in. "Come on. We still have places to be."_

_ With Kurt's final words, he and Blaine set off running down the rest of the dirt path, hands bound tightly together and mouths pressed into blissful smiles. They ran around the sharp corners of the forest, swinging their fists back and forth, as the wind pushed the hair off of their foreheads. But their sprint soon turned into a run, and a run soon turned into a jog, and eventually they had reached their tree. Blaine picked Kurt up off the ground and swung him around, adrenaline rushing through his veins from the love between himself and the wonderful, unreal boy beside him_

_ "BLAINE! Stop it! No, Blaine!" Kurt laughed, clutching his arms around Blaine's shoulders. He tried kicking his legs to get Blaine to release him, but instead, they ended up lying on the soft grass beneath them with a harsh thud. Kurt balanced his weight on top of Blaine, with his arms still hitched over his lover's shoulders, while Blaine lied haphazardly below, with his elbows and wrists locked successfully around Kurt. They both stared at each other in shock for a moment, the breath knocked out of their lungs, when Blaine began laughing harsh, heavy chuckles, making Kurt catch on. They laughed until they cried, rolling around on the grass together still positioned in their fierce embrace._

_ "Y-you sh-sh-should have se-see-seen y-your fa-face!"_

_ "Sp-spe-speak f-for y-your… S-SELF!" They giggled and sputtered, until eventually, their breathing evened out. With heavy inhalations, they went back to staring at each other with adoration. They untangled their limbs and hooked their hands together, lips touching delicately over and over again, barely grazing the pair opposite of them for a more than a mere second. Blaine was the first to let his hand go, reaching to stroke Kurt's hair, threading his fingers through the knotted strands. _

_ "I- I love you, Kurt," Blaine hushed between the spate presses of their lips._

_ "I lov- love you… too." Kurt let Blaine guide him through each intimate touch of their skin. "And I want eve… everyone to kn-know it."_

_ Blaine halted, taking Kurt's head in his hands and pulling him back. "Kurt, ya know we can't do that."_

_ "Maybe we can't hang banners proclaiming our love from every public building in our reach, but we can-" Kurt reached into Blaine's back pocket and pulled out his pocket-knife, "-do something a bit less festive." Kurt scrambled off of Blaine, heading over to a smooth area of the oak tree's bark._

_ "Kurt, ya really need to thi-"_

_ "No, Blaine. I'm done with taking so many precautions. I'm going through with this, and you're going to help me," Kurt proclaimed with authority. _

_ Blaine sighed, knowing that there was nothing he could possibly do to change Kurt's romantic plan. "What do you have in mind?"_

_ Kurt smiled. "I want to carve our initials into this tree and put them in a heart," Kurt murmured._

_ Blaine took a minute to let the idea sink in. The gesture was incredibly romantic, and in retrospect, was the confirmation that Kurt wanted for he and Blaine to stay involved for the rest of their lives. "Are you sure, K? I mean, etching our initials on this tree basically infers th-"_

_ "I know, Blaine. And that's exactly what I want," Kurt affirmed seriously. Blaine nodded, and took the small knife away from Kurt. With a steady hand, Blaine began to trace a small K next to a similarly sized H. Kurt came up behind Blaine, spooning him and watching his eyes focus on the carving of each letter. Right as Blaine finished the plus sign beneath the KH and moved further down to begin the B, Kurt spoke. "Wait. I want to carve your initials in myself. It is a token of our combined love, so I would like the honor of carving the first two letters of my lover's name. That is, if you help me." Blaine nodded slowly, a love-struck expression crossing his face and gave Kurt the knife. Once Kurt dug the tip into the bark, he stopped. "Um… what next?"_

_ "Here let me help you." Blaine covered Kurt's fist with his own, guiding Kurt's hand up and down the grain of the wood to form a far-from perfect B. "There. Perfect."_

_ "It's nothing compared to yours," Kurt nagged, turning his head to look at Blaine._

_ "It'll always be perfect 'cause you carved it." _

_ Kurt sucked in a short breath, and smiled widely at Blaine's comment. "You're very sappy, Mr. Anderson."_

_ "Ya gotta love it, Kit Kat." With those words, Blaine continued to help Kurt form an A with a variety of long strokes and small scratches. Once Blaine's initials were done, Blaine grabbed a stronger hold on the knife in Kurt's hand and surrounded the KH+BA with a lopsided heart._

_ Kurt looked at it fondly. "Thank you, Blaine. This means the world."_

_ "Well, that's what you deserve, Kit Kat. The big, ol' world and all the wonderful things that come with it."_

* * *

><p>Saturday came in a hurry, and before Kurt knew it, he was seated in a white shuttle on his way to Crawford Country Day. He watched the world speed past him carefully, tracing each recognizable monument's name with his lips. His tired eyes scanned and scanned, glazing over buildings and parks with memories. The shuttle sped along a dull, improved freeway, exiting here and there only to make it's way on to a well-attended, spindly road amidst layers and layers of thick trees and bushes.<p>

Eventually, the winding road led to a towering brick building with a polished gold bell and authentic white trim around the windows. Kurt stared up at it through his window with awe. _Some things never change,_ he thought, referring back to the similar Dalton academy building in his memory.

"So-" Kurt snapped his head towards the driver, "I'm gonna pick you up 'round four. Sound good?" Kurt nodded and unbuckled his seatbelt. "Uh, you don't need any help, do ya?"

Kurt chuckled. "I'm not that old." He climbed out of the sliding door of the van and strolled up the slope to the all-girls' school, ignoring the rev of the van's engine setting off to leave. Kurt opened the over-exaggerated front door and headed to the front desk, where a plump woman sat, filing her nails.

"Can I help you?" she asked Kurt, who couldn't help but notice her thick New York accent.

"Yes, actually. I'm looking for Naomi Breskin; I'm supposed to find her here at some sort of event."

"Out back in the courtyard," she mumbled, pointing a sharp fingernail to the back of the front hall.

Kurt silently nodded his thanks, his shoes clicking as he walked to the back door. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight across the covered courtyard. Students, parents, children, and couples littered the area and a massive flag flew over their heads. Blue and yellow equal signs were pinned to tables, and an enthusiastic, young band played in the corner. Kurt took in the circle of tables with posters and brightly colored flyers, and the congregation of families waiting for steaming food. Kurt's eyes darted around quickly, bouncing from scene to scene. Two girls no older than seventeen held hands and exchanged chaste kisses at a secluded table, a family of at least five (Kurt couldn't tell if the wandering red-head was included in their pack or not) nodded along to the presentation about equal rights, and a group of fourteen-ish year old boys danced together in front of the stage filled with band-members.

"So, what do you think?" Kurt quarter turned to his left to see Naomi bobbing her head to the music and looking at him expectantly.

"Wh-what is all of… this?" Kurt motioned his arms out to the crowd.

"Westerville, Ohio's version of Pride. Sure, it's a week early, but we figured that if gay rights supporters were going to go to Columbus for the actual parade then we wouldn't get as much interaction."

Kurt could only gape at her. "H-how? Who? This is… incredible!"

"After starting the gay/straight alliance here, everything… took off!" Naomi smiled.

Kurt began tearing up, glancing at the middle-aged gay couple dancing with their toddler. "I don't know what to say, just-" He chocked on his words, reaching out to grab Naomi's hand. "You're an inspiration."

Nomi grabbed Kurt and squeezed him in a tight embrace. "I could say the same about you."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm so terribly sorry. This should have been posted ages ago, but I was at camp for three weeks, then on vacation for two, and now I'm sick and I looked at the calendar and realized how long it's been. I know that I have very few readers out there but I've decided to pay more attention to this story to see if I can get some more attention from you readers out there. Please shoot me a review or message me or something- I'm lonely out here! Thanks guys!**_  
><em>

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee! Quit reminding me!**

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><p><em>Everywhere we go,<em>

_We're looking for the sun._

_Nowhere to grow old,_

_We're always on the run._

_They say we'll rot in hell,_

_But I don't think we will._

_They've branded us enough…outlaws of love- Adam Lambert_

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><p>"-That 86.2 percent of LGBT students have been harassed and bullied at school. And 60.8 percent don't even feel comfortable or safe at school."<p>

Kurt nodded his head in response, faintly listening to the teenage girl standing behind a booth with brightly colored pamphlets littered on its surface. Beneath her hung a sign that said "Equality for All" in bold, orange letters.

"But you can help!" the girl exclaimed, plastering on a toothy smile and waving her arms back and forth, blabbering on about donations and volunteer hours to the surrounding crowd. Kurt chuckled a little bit at her antics, scanning her It Get's Better shirt and high pony bobbing to and fro. It was nice to see the enthusiasm, as overwhelming her spiel was.

"If you have any questions, feel free to ask me or any of the students here and enjoy the rest of your day!" The audience clapped politely and Kurt followed suit, slowly drifting away from the crowd to glance at the other booths. After his brief chat with Naomi, he had left her to mingle with the other families at the event, claiming that he would be fine on his own. Granted, he didn't know anyone else there and really wished he could have spent more time speaking with the teenager, he knew she had other business to attend to and didn't want to be the one holding her back.

Kurt looked around the courtyard again, completely in awe of the support and the quantity of people willing to celebrate PRIDE. He knew that people were changing, and that acceptance was more profound nowadays, but just decades ago, not everyone felt the same…

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><p><em>"Are you sure?"<em>

_ "Kurt, why wouldn't I be sure? Harvey Milk was just killed! Right when we thought it was getting better it just got worse!" Blaine stared deeply at Kurt, whose face was twisted with concern. "I'm not going to let them hurt you."_

_ Kurt sighed, "I know, Blaine, but…"_

_ "But what?" Blaine practically yelled. "No one recognizes our love, Kurt! Not only that but they would rather kill us than let us love! I want that- no- I need that to change." Blaine gripped Kurt's shaking wrists in his fists._

_ "Blaine, if you march… I don't want you caught in that violence," Kurt whispered. "And what about Lillian?"_

_ Blaine hung his head. Lillian and Kurt were his world; his pride and joy. They were the reason he lived. "I would never put either of you in danger, or risk what we have. But I want us to be a_ legal _family, Kurt. Don't you?"_

* * *

><p>The memories reeled in his head, fading in and out like broken clockwork. Kurt had wanted to be a legally recognized family just as much as Blaine did. And even after all those years… he still did.<p>

"Kurt, Peyton. Peyton, Kurt." Naomi motioned for the frail man and the jubilant teenager to shake hands, smiling the welcoming looks on both of their faces.

"Pleasure to meet you," Peyton said, "I've heard lots about you."

"The pleasure is all mine," Kurt replied. "You really have an impact on this one." Kurt elbowed Naomi weakly in the side, a smirk creeping up the sides of his cheeks.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Naomi squawked playfully.

"Well, it took work, but she's a good trainee," Peyton joked along, ignoring Naomi's protests. "Nah, I love you, Nami, no matter how hopeless you can be." Kurt laughed jauntily, while Naomi only huffed indignantly. "So how are you enjoying our humble gathering? It's no big city PRIDE parade, but it's the best we could do."

"You should really give yourself more credit. You did a fabulous job setting this up, not to mention in Ohio!" Kurt gushed. He followed them over to a red, plastic covered table and sat down in front of the two girls. "You have spectacular advertisement, and the band- while not my taste- plays wonderfully! I greatly respect what you're doing; both of you."

"It's the _least _we could do, really," Naomi commented, as a short, graying woman came over to their table, followed by a gangly, middle school aged girl, and asked if Naomi would mind giving them a tour around the campus. Naomi generously complied. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

Naomi stood up, leaving Peyton and Kurt alone. Kurt coughed awkwardly, the silence thick and slow between the two individuals. Peyton rolled her tongue against the inside of her cheek, making it puff out and shrink over and over again, and rested her chin on her fisted palm. They only made eye contact once, before Peyton quickly pulled away quickly. Kurt and Peyton kept to themselves, private conversations playing in their respective minds. Kurt was about to stand up to go get himself a drink when Peyton spoke.

"Does it really get better?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows and repositioned himself on his chair. "What do you mean?"

"Everyone says that life gets better once you get older- you know, as a gay teen. Does it?" Peyton asked with hesitation.

"Oh," Kurt replied simply. "I'm not really the person to ask, seeing as I lived my entire life struggling." Peyton looked taken aback, shock and fear mixing on her face. Kurt realized what he said and quickly backtracked. "That came out wrong. What I meant to say was that I come from a different time, and that if you want a solid answer I'm not the person you want to ask."

Peyton sighed. "You may be the only person I ever get to ask for a long time."

Kurt's shoulders sunk and his head drooped. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about that. I would have asked the same thing if I was in your position at your age." Kurt took a deep breath and looked hard into Peyton's eyes. "It's hard. Of course, you know that already, living in the world we do. But if it's any consolation, then yes, it does get better. I mean, for me, I just had to deal with whatever life threw at me, but times have changed.

"I lived through a time when homosexuality was a forbidden whisper, and I lived through a time when it was screamed through the streets and shoved into everybody's world- whether they were gay or straight. But look around," Kurt twisted his body and faced the giant rainbow flag behind him. "We are sitting in a private school in Westerville, Ohio surrounded by gay men and women of all ages dancing to a song about girls kissing girls!" Peyton laughed whole-heartedly. "If this is where we are now, then it's bound to get better in the next ten, twenty, or thirty years. And even now you can move over to New York and marry whoever you want to, no questions asked."

Kurt reached his hand across the table boldly and grabbed Peyton's hand. "So yes, Peyton, it will get better. I may not see it happen, but I promise, absolutely promise, that you will."

* * *

><p>After saying goodbye to Naomi and a glassy eyed Peyton, Kurt lodged himself behind a scratchy seatbelt and watched the school blend into the trees around it and disappear. Kurt stared dazedly out the window, his eye catching on the occasional waddling toddler or oddly shaped bush. The shuttle slowed dramatically at a red light about five minutes into the trip, and Kurt glanced towards the outside world only to see the most haunting building grazing the low-cast shadows on the sidewalk. Dalton Academy School for Boys.<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Only one week! No! So I'm hoping to update between every Friday and Monday. Let's try it, huh? WARNINGS: Homophobia, and light violence. Just remember, this is AU so I have the power, as much as it pains me, I do. Please review. I need a pick-me-up from all of the break-up spoilers. My life just feels bleak. I need your love if you are willing to give it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own glee. If I did... oh god.**

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><p><em>"What made you go against God's will, Kurt?"<em>

_ "Why have you turned to perverse actions, Kurt?"_

_ "How long have you been pursuing this sin, Kurt?"_

_ "We will keep you as far from that boy as we can, don't worry."_

_ "Hate the sin, love the sinner."_

_ "We are going to fix you."_

The questions and statements burned in Kurt's mind, peeling off the scarred tissue formed over years of therapeutic adoration from the only form of love the world had to offer. His mind was bleeding.

Kurt tore his eyes from the bleak red brick of the school, taking shallow breaths through his nose to calm himself. In, out. In, out. In, out. Repeated over and over and over again, forcing the pricking tears back down.

_"You'll never have to see Blaine again. I promise." _

Kurt gagged on the words ringing through his head. _You'll never _have _to see Blaine. Have_ being the strongest word, like he was forced into seeing Blaine, like he was forced to love Blaine.

"Hey, you okay back there?" The burly driver in the front seat glanced to the fidgeting, panting man behind him in his rear-view mirror. "You look a little shaken up."

Kurt choked on his inhalations, locking his arms around his stomach for refuge. "Just hurry. Please."

The man shrugged, speeding towards the freeway exit once the crimson light flashed to an unnatural shade of green. The motion jerked Kurt forward, slamming his shoulder into the tightened seatbelt, but he could barely feel it. All he could feel was electric shocks, prodding fingers, and heavy pills sinking in his throat. And all he could hear was Blaine screaming his name.

* * *

><p>"So, you and Kurt seemed to get along well. I told you you'd like him," Naomi proclaimed proudly.<p>

Peyton stuffed a box full of leaflets into a supply closet, shutting the door with her shoulder. "He's sweet. In an old man kind of way."

After Kurt had finished his spiel with the world being brighter in the next few decades, Peyton sort of broke down, sniffling over how lonely she was. No one looked at her anymore, at least, not in the way that she wanted them to. It was hard for people to realize that just because she was attracted to girls, she wasn't lesbian. Every time Peyton would point out a cute guy to one of her more accepting friends, they would just say that she was supposed to be into girls. She wasn't 'supposed' to be into anyone. She was same old Peyton, but with more understanding about herself, and the people that didn't mind her being different then them couldn't even understand that.

"But you're right, Kurt's a nice guy. It was nice talking to him," Peyton affirmed.

Naomi nodded, knotting off the top of a black, plastic trash bag. "Anything else you want to tell me…?"

"What do you mean 'anything else'? Can't two gay people have a little chat without bringing orientation into it?" Peyton snapped. Naomi frowned, turning back to her plastic bag and hauling it off to a dumpster. Peyton sighed and ran a hand over her forehead. "Sorry."

Naomi turned around to face her best friend. "No, no, it's me who should be sorry. I shouldn't have presumed."

"Well, you presumed correctly."

"What?" Naomi implored. "But you just said-"

"I know what I said, Naomi!" Peyton stopped and took a breath. "I know what I said," she rephrased. "It's just… I asked him about… stuff, and we talked a little bit about the… world."

"You have to be a little more specific than that," Naomi declared.

"Fine. We talked about what it's like. To be gay. In our day in age, I mean." Peyton walked briskly away from Naomi, heading outside to fold up the oversized rainbow flag in the courtyard. Naomi followed.

"That's good, right? To have someone to talk to who's in your position instead of getting stuff off your chest with a bunch of uneducated straight girls?"

"You're more than an uneducated straight girl, Nami," Peyton stated. "I know you worry about me, and about the fact that you haven't done enough. I forgave you after what happened, remember?"

Naomi had a deep, sympathetic look in her eyes. She was clouded with grief. Even though she had patched up her problems with Peyton, the damage still remained. "Yes, I do remember, but that doesn't make it okay."

"Why isn't it okay?! You made a mistake, and then you learned from it and apologized. There's nothing else to it!"

"There is to me!" Naomi shouted. Leftover volunteers peeked over at the display before exiting quietly. "I made your life miserable! It was a life and death situation! Literally. I'm not saying that I'm a terrible friend, but I still hold a grudge against myself. Don't you understand that?" Peyton looked guilty, but Naomi just continued. "Look, I shouldn't be the one yelling. But I- I don't want to sweep this under the rug anymore."

"I get it," Peyton affirmed. "It's just hard to talk about. I'm not saying it's good for me, but avoiding the topic is easiest."

"I know," Naomi murmured. "Sorry."

"It's fine. But I think the first thing we need to stop doing is apologizing. We've both done our fair share." Peyton walked over to where Naomi was, cradling the folded flag in her arms. "And for the record, you are the most educated straight girl I know."

* * *

><p>Kurt was numb when he exited the shuttle. Like stone, just a statue among hundreds of others in a display room. But his position was different. Unlike the winged cherubs floating in the room, and the loving couples locked together in clay, Kurt's statue was dark. Covered in shadows and cobwebs in the corner, face shaped in a downturned frown, away from all of the other beautiful creations. He was away from everyone else like always. He was away from the other members of the home, away from Columbus, away from the state of Ohio… away from the world. And worst of all, away from Blaine.<p>

Kurt walked blandly. Didn't saunter, didn't march, didn't stroll. Walked. He walked past his space on the loveseat, past the fake-brunette (…Magdalena?) waving at him from her wheelchair, and past his room. Kurt walked and walked and walked to the edge of the two acres occupied by Columbus Retirement Home, until he reached tall grass hiding a rocky creek.

It was no more than five inches deep where he decided to sit down, letting the water pet the pads of his fingers. It was freezing. Ice-cold from the snow melted on the mountain caps in the distance, but it stopped the numbness. It made Kurt feel. And since he was so far off, away from the world, he didn't care.

Kurt let the haunting memories of Dalton Academy seep into the wounds in his mind like salt water. Making the memories sting. And for the first time in years, Kurt Hummel let himself cry and prod the cuts that never properly healed.

* * *

><p><em>"They cant."<em>

_ "Blaine, they already have."_

_ "No! I won't let them take you!" Blaine cried, clasping his hands fiercely around Kurt's face. "We'll run. We'll run until we reach New York. Just like you wanted. Come on, Kurt, let's go!"_

_ "Blaine, I'm leaving in fifteen minutes, and if my dad sees you in here he'll skin you!"_

_ Blaine leaned in towards Kurt, pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips. "Don't care. I ain't letting them take you."_

_ "Kurt! Get your ass down here, kid, we're gonna miss the bus!"_

_ Kurt's teary eyes darted to the closed door of his room, and listened to his father's booming yell. He shoved his lips roughly against Blaine's, holding Blaine's hair to keep him close. When he broke away there were tears on his cheeks. "I'm scared, Blaine."_

_ "Don't be scared. I'm not gonna let them hurt you, ya hear? Trust me, Kurt." Blaine's thumbs brushed rapidly over Kurt's tears before grabbing Kurt tightly from their kneeled position on the floor. They rocked back and forth in their tight embrace, Blaine trying to hush Kurt's fearful sobs. "Don't let them tell you anything, Kurt."_

_ "Come on, Kurt!"  
>"C-c-coming, da-ad…" Kurt pulled away from Blaine, utter terror on his face. "Blaine…"<em>

_ Blaine took Kurt's hands, lifting him to his feet. "I'll get you out of here Kurt, I-"_

_ "Kurt Hummel, if I have to call yo-" Kurt's father burst open the door to see a curly haired boy wrapped around his son. The initial shock of Kurt and his company quickly faded to rage, and Burt looked like a seething bull in an arena. "GET OFF HIM!" Burt jumped into action, wrestling Kurt from the other boy's grasp and shoving Blaine to the ground. _

_ "Blaine!" Kurt shrieked, trying to run to the fallen boy, only to be withheld by two strong hands. Burt gripped Kurt's collar before slapping his son's face. "Why is this faggot in my home?" he yelled, pointing to Blaine._

_ "Dad, please-"_

_ "WHY IS HE IN MY HOME?"_

_ Blaine sprung up, reaching for Kurt only to be blocked by a hulking, beast of a man. Blaine looked up into the darkening eyes, anger flooding through them, and before he could get to the hyperventilating boy behind Burt, he felt shuddering pain in his jaw, stomach, and lungs. He dropped to the ground, gripping his throbbing chin and gut as he saw Burt shaking his curled fist from the of the impact. Blaine saw blood dribble on the floor and heard Kurt's shaking screams and Burt's horrendous bellows. But their banter was silence compared to the piercing backslap of a hand against Kurt's cheek._

_ Blaine realized that the blood in front of him wasn't the reason for the scarlet haze in his eyes. He tried standing on shaky legs, propelled by the fury in his heart, but collapsed in blistering pain. _

_ "Please, Dad! Don't hurt him!"_

_ "He's nothing but an animal, Kurt! A worthless piece of crap! Let him die for all I care! Now get your stuff and get on the bus."_

_ "NO! Please, let me say goodb-"_

_ "Get, Kurt. Now!" Burt spun Kurt around, taking him by the arm and tugging him down the stairs._

_ Kurt desperately turned his head towards Blaine, glancing at the love of his life coughing up blood but still staring deeply into his eyes. "I love you," Kurt whispered so Blaine could read his lips._

_ Blaine stared longingly at Kurt's disappearing figure and with the little energy he had mumbled, "forever."_

_The bus ride to Dalton was long and tiring, and after Kurt had finished his book, all he had for entertainment was the big, wide world outside and the words he fished from Blaine's mouth moments before their departure. It was all he had left to hold on to. Who knew if he would see Blaine again?_

_ A few hours later, the Greyhound pulled up to a cracked pavement corner, and the bus driver pulled Kurt's single suitcase from the overhead compartment. Kurt thanked the driver, tipped him, and watched his last connection to Lima fade away. He lived in Westerville now. Kurt dragged himself to the wooden doors of the school, pulling on the brass handle. He tightened his tie and walked cautiously to the secretary's office._

_ "I'm Kurt Hummel," Kurt introduced himself. "New student."_

_ The secretary behind the mahogany desk looked up at him behind her glasses and smiled. "Oh yes, I'm glad you've arrived safely. Do you have a parent or guardian with you?"_

_ Burt had decided to ship his son off alone to 'make him more independent.' "No."_

_ "Okay," the secretary said slowly, biting her lip. She looked through a folder of papers, pulling out a schedule, room key, map, and a dozen pamphlets. "Well, welcome to Dalton! Here's your schedule. Your classes are all listed here- oh! I see you are working with our Pastor and Dr. Bentley…" She scavenged her desk, finally pulling out a business card. "Here's Dr. Bentley's telephone number if you ever shall need his assistance. I know you will do well with him."_

_ Kurt fingered the card, and read: _

_**Dr. A. Bentley**_

_**Psychologist at Dalton Academy School for Boys**_

_ The secretary stood up and leaned over to Kurt, whispering in his ear. "You didn't hear this from me, but he's able to cure even the worst cases. From depression to bipolar disorder. I've even heard of him curing a so-called 'homosexual.'"_


	10. Chapter 10: part I

**A/N: I'm back! This is getting angstier, and since I wanted to drag this out I made it into two chapters. Part II should be up next week:) I love reviews and all of the feedback you have given me! BTW, I went back and did some little date changes and detail repairs for earlier chapters (thank you paddyoffurniture!) Kurt and Blaine met in 1955, not 1945. Oops. And don't hold back, throw me a review to tell me what I can do better and if I'm doing anything right:P Read on!**

**Disclaimer: Glee is not mine, but it SJP's character _is_ named Isabelle! But that's as close as I'll get...**

* * *

><p>Almost a week after the event, Naomi finally made time to go visit Kurt, and when she got there, his door was ajar, and spewing a gray shadow of very little light. She peered through the dimly lit crack of the door, before knocking lightly and pushing slightly forward. "Kurt?"<p>

Before she could finish pushing inwards, she heard the same voice she always did answer her call. But instead of a greeting, a 'hello' or 'come in,' Naomi was met with a question.

"She calls you Nami, doesn't she?"

Naomi was taken aback by the sudden response coming from… somewhere in the room. She entered with lightly tapping feet, jerking her head around to look for the voice before answering. "…Wh-"

Before Naomi could finish, the voice responded. "It's cute, in my opinion. How long has she used it?"

"Um…" Naomi made out a slouching figure curled up under his covers of his bed, arms fiddling with what looked like a shoebox. "Can I turn on a light first? So I can see you?"

"Why have light when the dark can be so beautiful? Majestic even."

Naomi's eyebrows furrowed to match the deep frown above her chin. This had to have been a bad sign. Kurt sometimes seemed off-kilter, but never… delusional. "Kurt, it's four in the afternoon," she said with concern. Then playing along to satisfy Kurt added, "the night is only hours away, why not wait for the real thing?"

Kurt contemplated the idea then nodded. "You're right. The real thing is much better anyways."

"Right," Naomi confirmed, shuffling over to the light switch, her eyes never leaving Kurt. _Maybe I should talk to a nurse._ Naomi watched Kurt's blissful face, eyes shut, a closed mouthed smile, swaying back and forth to himself. Weird.

She walked delicately over to the bed and sat at the base of it, a few inchesaway from Kurt's blanket-covered feet. She cleared her throat, startling him. "So… what were you saying?"

"She calls you Nami. Peyton."

Naomi rolled her eyes at herself in recognition. "Yeah. We went to this sushi place for my birthday a while back and we decided on trying the Nami roll. It ended up being delicious and because of the resemblance to my name it just stuck."

Kurt contemplated that, his head cocked to one side, still squeezing the shoebox. When he spoke, his eyes were unfocused and his voice was hushed, "Blaine used to call me Kit Kat."

Naomi stopped. That was a name she hadn't heard in a while. She still wondered what had happened between them, but after Kurt's last reaction, she just left it be. But whatever it was, she guessed that it was eating away at Kurt, and that his partial insanity for the day had something to do with his and Blaine's relationship.

"KK, Kit Kat. He was something special, that boy. So creative." Kurt stared off. "Today was a special day for us back then." He looked at Naomi with his sunken, dry eyes. "Come closer."

It was the first time that day that Kurt had looked at the girl in the eyes, and for some reason, Kurt's request frightened Naomi.

"I don't bite. I want to share something with you," Kurt offered. When Naomi didn't move, Kurt tried a new tactic. "You know, today is the day I met Blaine. Years and years ago."

That set a spark in Naomi and closed the gap between the two. She scooted up beside him, resting her body on the headboard. Naomi had never been so close to Kurt before, and suddenly the air they breathed mixed and their bubbles popped. But Naomi didn't say a word.

Kurt placed the box on his outstretched legs and took a large inhalation to begin his speech in his loose and carefree state. "I haven't been sleeping much," he said, "but when I do, I dream. And I dream about him. He never kisses me, holds me, touches me, or even looks at me in the dreams, but he's there. And the entire time I will just stand there watching him, and I try to run to him but something holds me back. Every time I wake up, I try to find the reason why I can't move, why he doesn't notice me.

"But then I realize I'm awake, and that he is lost in my dream. Solely an illusion trapped in a projection. For I am only unconscious when I sleep, but Blaine will forever be unconscious."

Every pulse of Naomi's heart felt heavier, like a hand was keeping it from fully expanding. The dream was like a weight that surely kept Kurt slumping his shoulders in pain. Naomi wanted to say something, but what was there to say? She watched Kurt's face. He told the story expressionless, with no emotion or sign of weakness, as if what he saw in his dreams were only night terrors, and not realities.

"Have you ever had a reoccurring dream? One that eats your brain until it leaves you strung out like a mad man?" Kurt asked completely obliviously to his relation to his question.

Naomi opened her mouth to say no, but closed it to nod her head in agreement. "Yes." Kurt turned his head to look Naomi directly in the eye, encouraging her in silence. "My parents are divorced. I was nine, and the custody issues became more… heated than they were supposed to. Watching my mom scream and my dad cry in court day in and day out lead to terrible nightmares of my body being ripped in half by my own parents fighting for their ownership of my body, like I was an object. But I didn't want to get in the way of the process, so I drove myself crazy reliving the dream."

Naomi searched Kurt's dull eyes for recognition. "I think that's what you're doing to yourself Kurt. Driving yourself crazy with all of your feelings," she whispered. "It took therapists and medical assistance to get me back to where I am now. I think you could use that."

Kurt seemed to be processing the information in his head. He made zero eye contact with the girl next to him, lips pursed, and facial expression still airy and lost. It was clear to Naomi that Kurt did not like the idea of sharing his world with someone else, but like always, Kurt threw her a curveball. After minutes of silence, he opened the lid of the cardboard box and reached his hand inside to pull out a black and white photograph. It depicted a young Kurt, sleeping with his hair matted against someone's lap with dusty shadows across his face. It was taken at a wide angle, only a foot or so from Kurt's face by the person he was resting on.

"We had to take an art class at my school. Blaine was fascinated in photography, and the teacher thought that he was talented enough to work on his collection outside of school. This was the first one he took."

"It's beautiful," Naomi observed, fingering the worn photograph.

"Blaine had to buy his own roll of film to take his own pictures of me so the teacher wouldn't know. Once a month, Blaine and I would break into the school at night to develop the pictures together. It really was an amazing experience, watching your face rise out of the dark of the room in the murky water. Blaine would always stand behind me and take hold of my hands when we developed them, so we could do it together. He called me his 'muse.'"

Kurt picked up a stack of photographs of all different sizes and handed them to Naomi. All of them were of Kurt, and all of them were candid. With every picture, Naomi was given the examples of their love for one another. Kurt sprawled in the grass, or Kurt running his fingers through his hair after he dove into a lagoon, or Kurt half naked under feathery sheets. And on the second to last picture in the stack, Naomi saw him. Lips pressed almost cautiously to Kurt's, a calloused hand encircling Kurt's cheek, eyelashes wet with dew looking tears, brows furrowed in worry. It was the image of love. It was Blaine.

"Who took this?" Naomi asked.

Kurt closed his eyes when he saw the picture. "Blaine had a timer set on his camera on his bedside table, and he forgot about it. When we went to develop the photographs that month, we found about thirty images of us crying together and kissing each other. We were going to just throw them away, but when we realized why we had been so emotional that day, we ended up keeping them. Years later, I found this image again, and with new technology we enlarged just our faces and kept it."

Naomi furrowed her eyebrows together, still staring at the photo before turning back to Kurt. "Why were you so emotional?"

Kurt sighed. "Because that was the day that Blaine told me that his body had failed him."


	11. Chapter 10: part II

_****_**A/N: I'm so sorry that this is a week late! I've had four hour rehearsals every day and I've been super busy getting ready for school. The next one should be up tomorrow. So... this chapter has basically turned into three parts, but whatever. I really hope you enjoy reading this story and if you do, shoot me a review:D Thanks to all my reviewers and followers so far!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. But what would happen if I did... oh god.**

_Do you remember, the day that you met me?_

_I swear it was yesterday, I knew with a glance,_

_That you were the question, and you were the answer,_

_That the world would make sense again if I held your hand._

_Someday you'll look back, and I hope you'll remember,_

_The moment of truth when I knew who I was._

_How did I learn the truth you gave to me?- Bare, from Bare: a Pop Opera_

* * *

><p>"Failed him? How?"<p>

Kurt's eyes were hazy and glazed with the reflection of the yellow light from the overhead lamp above him. He looked energized, yet so, so dull. His lips were cracked, his skin papery, his hair flat. Naomi asked her question again, waiting for a response. He was silent. She watched Kurt's face contort and placate over and over again, but nothing left his lips.

"Kurt," Naomi grabbed his shoulder lightly and turned him towards her. "Kurt, talk to me."

Naomi was met with a hollowed shadow of Kurt's face, and his chattering teeth clutching his lip. Kurt's mouth opened and his face held a look of wonderment. "You look just like her. Your hair, nose. You have her eyes, you know." He touched his fingertips to her forehead. "She had the most beautiful skin. Like you…"

The response (if you could call it that) triggered Naomi with fear. Where was this coming from? Who did she look like? How did they go from Blaine's failing body to… this? What _was_ this? Kurt was scaring her; he was like a grandfather to her by now, and his words filled her mind with panic. He needed help. He was obviously sleep deprived and speaking nonsense, but Naomi felt as if something else was up. She grasped Kurt's bony hand in hers, slowly standing up from the bed and kneeling down in front of Kurt, who was now mumbling to himself.

Naomi spoke tentatively. "I'll be right back, Kurt. I'm going to get a nurse and I'll be right back."

Kurt clutched her hand tightly to keep her from moving, and his eyes looked fearful. "Don't leave. Don't leave like she did. You can't, Lillian."

_Wait… what?_ "I-I wont, Kurt. Trust me…" _Who's Lillian?_

And right when Naomi thought it couldn't get any worse, Kurt began to weep. Swollen tears dripped long stripes down his face, casting shiny glints on his cheeks. "Don't leave, Lillian. Not again."

Naomi's breathing was shallow and quick, her heart palpitating like hummingbird wings. "It's Naomi, Kurt. Not Lillian. I promise I won't leave for long."

Kurt seemed to have awakened with the new knowledge that it was Naomi in his presence. They held each other's gaze with strength until Kurt released Naomi's hand. "Hurry," he whispered.

Naomi stood, already jogging to the door and confirming, "I will."

* * *

><p>Naomi's feet couldn't have gone faster, tripping over patches of bunched up carpet, and swerving around tiled flowerpots in the thin corridors of the retirement home. Her name was not Lillian, and as far as she knew, Kurt didn't have any connections to the name Lillian. Then again, she didn't know much. Naomi was flushed when she reached a nurse checking something off on a chart on one of the couches stationed down the hall.<p>

"I- ah, n-need h-help," Naomi panted.

The nurse looked up at Naomi, setting down her chart and standing up. "Sit down," she said, motioning to the couch, but Naomi waved her off.

"N-no. Kurt. Kurt Hummel. I don't know what's wrong, but he hasn't been sleeping, and he's calling me this random name: Lillian, but I don't know anyone named Lillian, and neither does he, but maybe he does, and I realized that I don't know much about him at all, and I'm scared that he's sick or loosing his mind, and, and, a-"

The nurse shushed Naomi's ramble, taking Naomi's shoulders in her hands. "What's his room number?"

"912," she recited monotonously.

The nurse nodded, pulling out something that looked like a walky-talky and whispering into it firmly with the press of a button. Naomi didn't hear much, but the words 'IV drip' and 'possible signs of on set Alzheimer's' stood out.

The nurse hooked her walky-talky back into her scrubs and gave Naomi a firm yet comforting look. "We are going to check on him and give him some medicine after a doctor diagnoses him, but rest assure, he will be fine."

Naomi heaved out a huge breath. _Fine. That's all I need to hear._

The nurse walked briskly towards Kurt's room, smiling at the other residents on her way. "What name did he call you again?"

Naomi stepped up her pace to walk beside the nurse. "Lillian. I don't know why, but… yeah, Lillian."

The nurse's face shone with recognition, but she quickly balanced it out to a look of confusion. "Kurt Hummel, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The nurse nodded and hummed, picking up her set of keys as they neared Kurt's room. She selected a small golden one, slotting it into the door and twisting it until she heard a clicking sound. The nurse shoved the door open to reveal a still Kurt resting in his bed.

Kurt's head suddenly shot around at the sound of footsteps. "You came back," he said dopily, like he had witnessed a miracle.

"Of course," Naomi replied simply. _Whoever had 'left' him before certainly made a dent, _Naomi thought. "I brought a nurse with me to help you with whatever is… going on, Kurt."

Kurt's glassy eyes connected with the nurse's, and he smiled. "Nancy."

"Let's check you out, okay, Kurt?" Nancy replied with a smile of her own.

Kurt nodded, letting the nurse take his pulse, and turned back to Naomi. "Nancy was the first person I met when I came here, you know," he stated tiredly to Naomi.

Naomi's eyes spread wide, "oh?"

"She was marvelous. Helped me find the tree and everything."

Nancy's eyes darted down, and she coughed lightly as she wrote down numerals on another chart.

"Tre- oh!" Naomi exclaimed. The last time Kurt had mentioned that tree his lie was stretched thinly and Naomi could see right through it. "The tree that reminds you of home?" she asked, looking for a different answer, and because of Kurt's lack of common sense at the moment, she received one.

"Technically," Kurt said, scrunching his nose. "But only if you are referring to Blaine as my home. Which he was." Kurt's eyes glazed over again and he stared at a spot on the wall in front of him, getting sidetracked as Nancy checked his blood pressure and fever. "He was my everything, you know. Blaine. That tree was the significance of our love. Proof that we weren't diseased or sick, and that our love was honest. And when they chopped it down, it seemed to chop down a piece of our hearts, too."

Kurt stared even harder at the wall, like if he did it long enough, all his pain would go away. "My darling, Blaine. Always there for me, always holding me. Until he left." Kurt's eyes watered and his voice wavered. The next words Kurt uttered were whispered. "He promised he wouldn't leave. But he did."

Naomi squeezed Kurt's shaking hand. It was too much. Naomi hardly knew half of Kurt's story and the pain he surely felt had already entered her body. Why could some people be so lucky and other's so unlucky? Some never faced death, or disease, or a loss of love when others had stabbing blades of grief plunged into their muscles. It wasn't fair.

Before Naomi could murmur words of comfort to Kurt, the nurse moved towards her with the same firm glance she gave her in the hallway. "How long has it been since he's slept?"

"I-I don't know. He's been having drea- nightmares every night, but that's the extent of my knowledge. But I'm guessing that it's been a few days. He was fine that last time I saw him."

"And how long ago was that?"

Naomi ran through the past few days in her head before answering. "About a week."

Nancy nodded and turned her head backwards to see a blank-faced Kurt still staring down the wall. "I'm going to give him a simple IV drip to knock him out for a while, and we'll check on him later. That worked last time."

Naomi didn't like the sound of that. "This has happened before?" she asked with concern.

Nancy bit the inside of her cheek and abruptly pulled Naomi to the other side of the room by her elbow. She dragged her over by the door, briefly glancing at Kurt, still trapped in his daze, his lips now moving soundlessly. He looked… cursed, almost. "He was pretty shaken up when he came here. He wouldn't sleep, wouldn't eat, nothing. This usually happens when he takes a rare trip down memory lane, and is usually connected to nightmares, so who could blame him? I mean after Blaine and Lillian left him…"

There was that name again. Lillian. "I still don't know who Lillian is!" she said, frustrated.

Nancy pursed her lips, deciding if she should slip the truth or stick with a lie. The truth won. "Lillian was- _is _Kurt's daughter."

_Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. _"Daughter? Kurt has a dau- why hasn't he told me about her? Why did she leave him? Is she dead?" Naomi's head was spinning out of control.

Nancy sighed, rubbing the heels of her hands down her face. "No, she's not dead, but Kurt doesn't like talking about it. About _her_. It's a sore spot."

"But _why_?"

Nancy gave her a small, sad smile. "It's not my story to tell. But give him time. If he trusts you, then the truth will be revealed. And seeing he told you what he did about the oak tree, I'm sure that he trusts you."

* * *

><p>"I'm home!" Naomi threw her keys on the side table next to the door of her father's condo, and plopped her bag on the floor. "Something smells good," she said, trekking towards the scent of roasted garlic and chopped basil. With her father's Italian roots, hearty smells were always wafting through their home.<p>

Through the archway of the kitchen she spotted Mark Borelli sautéing eggplant in a saucepan, flipping his ingredients in the air, and humming an off-key tune in Italian. He turned around to meet his daughter with a smile. "How was your time volunteering, _Bella_?" he asked in his thin accent, which had dissipated quite drastically from his time in the states. He grabbed a pinch of salt from the cabinet behind him and sprinkled it in the pan.

"Strange." She picked up a wooden spoon from the counter to taste the concoction, only for it to be slapped away by Mark's hand. She stuck out her tongue at him and continued her story. "Kurt was speaking nonsense today. He hasn't been sleeping well recently, and apparently the lack of rest gives him these… spells."

"Spells?" her father asked.

"Yeah," Naomi said, leaning against the counter and popping a piece of Parmesan cheese in her mouth. "He was really spacy and distant. He kept telling me stories from years ago, and he kept calling me by his daughter's name, Lillian."

"You never told me he had a daughter," Mark said, removing some Focaccia from the oven, and layering the eggplant on top of the sliced pieces.

"I didn't know until today. The nurse told me." Naomi laid out silverware along with placemats and napkins.

"Why wouldn't he tell you about her?" Mark suggested, shredding the cheese his daughter had been picking at and sprinkling it atop of the eggplant, along with a drizzle of olive oil.

"I don't know! He's a secretive guy, and he doesn't like talking about that stuff." Naomi paused, sitting down across the table from her dad. She piled arugula with vinegar on her plate and two slices of the bread with the eggplant. As she sprinkled granules of pepper on her food she asked her dad another question. "Do you think that's normal? That he's not talking about it?"

Mark stabbed a cherry tomato with his fork. "Sure," he replied. "I still don't talk about your mom and I's divorce, do I?"

Naomi guessed the question was rhetorical, but when her father had stopped to look at her for an answer she just shrugged. "No."

"That's because it's a sore spot."

Naomi nodded and bit her lip. She didn't want to push the subject, but- "Why can't people open up? It's so much easier that way!" It was true. For Naomi, if there were ever something wrong, she would talk about it to get it off her chest. But everyone around her, Peyton, her parents, _Kurt_, was different. If something were bothering them, they would just lock it up inside to keep from dealing with the situation, which could lead to stress, nightmares, lack of sleep…

"Not everyone is as open as you are, _Bella_," Mark alleged. "Yes, it's unhealthy to bottle stuff up inside you, but not everyone has the strength to talk it out."

"They're just words. All you have to do is speak," Naomi muttered with frustration. She hated that all the people she loved would waste away with their worries and fears, and it annoyed her that they wouldn't just let it out.

"Not everyone can do that, Naomi," her father said softly. "Not everyone is strong enough. And from what you've told me, Kurt seems to have gone through some tough issues that may be hard for him to patch up on his own. When you've been hurt so much in your life, you don't want to tell the people you love about it just to keep them safe."

"I'm sixteen, Dad. I don't need to be sheltered from reality."

"And I didn't say you did. All I said was that the vast majority of the world wants to protect their family from the terrors they've endured. Not because they don't think that their loved ones are mature enough, but because they want to keep them free of the worries on their own shoulders. You have to remember, _Bella_, that when you tell someone a secret, you are lifting a weight on to his or her shoulder."

Naomi frowned, and swallowed a sip of the lemon water she had poured for herself. She knew her dad was right, as much as she wished he wasn't. All she wanted to do was help, and in Kurt's case, she didn't know how. "I guess."

"Look, Naomi. I'm sure you have helped this man in ways you aren't even aware of. All he does is sit alone in that room of his, isn't that right?"

Naomi nodded yes.

"Well, you came in and talked to him. You gave him a reason to wake up in the morning. You gave him someone to talk to. You take him out sometimes, if I'm correct, and that's probably more than anyone has done, or even tried to do, for a long time."

Naomi stared down at her napkin on her lap, spinning a spoon between her index fingers. It was humbling to hear this kind of thing from her dad. When she was living with her mom, which was almost always, she was only told that she was spending too much time with 'this old guy,' and not enough studying, or seeing her friends, or getting exercise. But her dad supported her no matter what she did, and complimented her achievements along the way. When Naomi looked up rom her lap, she saw her father's eyes on hers.

"But you know what the best part of what you're doing is? You are giving Kurt a friend. That's something rare and genuine, Naomi. And honestly, I think it's the kindest gift you could ever give him"

* * *

><p>"I owe you an explanation," Kurt said when he opened the door for Naomi two days later. "I shouldn't have put you in the position I did the other day. I wasn't rested and I put you in an uncomfortable place. I'm so, so sorry."<p>

Naomi looked at him with wide eyes. "Good afternoon to you, too," she said. Kurt blushed and rubbed his neck. "But there's nothing for you to apologize for, Kurt. You don't have to explain yourself to me. You were tired, and I have to say, you talked me through your situation pretty well in you 'delusional state.'"

Kurt laughed at that and led Naomi into his room. Naomi sat down on her usual chair in front of the coffee table, but this time when she picked up the steaming mug of mint tea Kurt always had for her, she potted a cardboard box. A shoebox. The very same shoebox Kurt had showed her days prior. "Kurt, you don-"

"Yes. I do. I want to." Kurt pulled his chair over to Naomi's so their armrests matched up. "But only if it's okay with you."

Naomi thought about what her dad had told her about transferring the weight on to someone's shoulders. "Of course."

Kurt heaved in a large breath of air, slowly releasing it through puckered lips. He stared straight in front of him before turning his body a bit to face Naomi's. He started with his eyes shut. "My mom died when I was eight, due to the childbirth of my little sister who didn't make it either. Her name was Molly, and my mother's was Elizabeth. I always like to think that they would have accepted me for loving whom I do. For loving Blaine. After they died, my father stopped being the loving man he was and became colder. He faded. He tried washing away his pain with alcohol, but that didn't seem to work so he just got… colder. And when he got cold, I learned not to bother him, and eventually I became completely independent. I guess you could say that his lack of enthusiasm for life triggered a lot of goals for me; because all I knew was that I wanted to get out and do what I loved, unlike him. And all I wanted to do was move far, far away to the mystical land of Hollywood.

"Because of my dreams, I felt distant from the world, and everyone thought I was crazy for wanting to do something beside run my dad's old tire and lube shop. I would spend hours and hours a day by myself, because no one wanted to hear the strange kid's rant about making something out of his life. Except Blaine. Blaine had moved from a prep school in Indiana, and as you know we met at Prom and hit it off."

Kurt tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows a little. "It's been a while since I told you, but do you remember how we… got together?"

Naomi grinned big and wide. "How could I forget?"

Kurt nodded with a small smile on his face. "Well, after we… you know, came out to each other, we got kinda shy around one another. We believed that God thought that what we were doing was wrong, and we didn't know how to progress from there. Eventually, Blaine sat down at the oak tree with me one day, and we discussed how God never had anything wrong with love, so the love that we felt couldn't have been wrong. 'Love was sacred,' Blaine told me, and 'how could what we feel be un-holy if we were expressing true adoration for each other?' I guess that struck a chord in me because from that day on, what I learned in church was always second to what I felt in my heart.

"Weeks passed where Blaine and I became closer and closer. After Blaine got his camera, we got even closer. He would take hundreds of photos of me."

Kurt reached for the cardboard box, placing it on his lap and scavenging through it. He pulled out a new stack of twelve or so photographs bound in a stained, magenta ribbon and spread them unevenly on the surface of the table. "These are some of my favorites. I never knew he had developed them since we were only messing around. He gave them to me for my birthday."

The first was a picture was of Blaine. Naomi picked it up and studied it closely to find that he was resting on a pillow with curly hair pressed against his face. His eyes looked joyful, yet small tears collected on the edges. His cheeks were flushed pink, and were raised from the watery smile he had on. "Did you take this of Blaine?" Naomi questioned Kurt, handing him the worn photo.

"Mm hmm. I'd never tried photography, but he just… I wanted to capture that moment forever. I'd never felt so much love for someone until then."

Naomi took a risk and opened her mouth to speak. She knew it was overstepping, but she had to ask. "Why?"

Kurt's entire face lit up with a blush and he ducked his head, trying to hide his small smile. "We… um. That was the day we decided to go beyond our emotional love for one another and… physically connect," he murmured.

As awkward as the statement was, Naomi gave him a small smile. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's love."

Kurt just nodded slowly and handed Naomi another picture. It depicted Kurt's youthful face being caressed by what could only be the hand that Blaine wasn't using to hold his camera. More and more photos were taken in the same place, with the lighting shifting to cast new shadows on the boys' faces.

"I cherished these, and every night before I went to sleep I would look at the fist one. Of Blaine. But I shouldn't have been so careless. One night, after I forgot to properly hide them beneath my mattress, my dad came across them.

"When I came home from school that day, he sat me down at the table and asked me what they were all about. I thought he had only seen innocent pictures of our faces, so I anxiously lied to him, explaining that it was a silly school project that they were paired up for. Little did I know, that once he found one, he went searching for more and found one of the images of us kissing on my bed the day Blaine told me about his condition. He was outraged and screamed violently at me before he yelled that I was to never see Blaine again. I told him that he couldn't keep our love at bay; that what we had was real and not disgusting, and that no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn't be able to keep us apart. Let's just say it was a bad move. My dad ended up burning all the images he found of us, which broke my heart in two. Luckily, he didn't find these," Kurt motioned to the pile of photographs in front of him.

Naomi nodded sympathetically before speaking her mind. "You never did tell me what happened to him."

Kurt lifted a hand to his forehead and rolled his eyes at himself. "Oh! I completely forgot about that! I'm sorry, Naomi. You must be so confused." Kurt folded his hands in his lap, and let a sad smile drift on to his face.

"Don't worry about me, Kurt, you don't have to tell me anything you're uncomfortable with." Naomi reached out and covered his hands with hers.

Kurt looked grateful, but powered onwards. "No. I trust you, Naomi, and you deserve to know." Kurt took another deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. "When Blaine turned eighteen, he was diagnosed with a very odd case of Poly Cystic Kidney Disease. You can either be born with it, or be diagnosed with in during adulthood. In Blaine's case, he was diagnosed with in it adulthood, but most people don't find it until they are in their thirties or forties. Apparently, he developed it from someone in his family, but I honestly don't know who it was. Neither of us did. Basically, cysts form on your kidney resulting in high blood pressure, and eventually kidney failure, in Blaine's case."

Naomi could feel Kurt's hands shaking underneath her own, and watched his pale face contort with sadness. He looked so small and weak. "Oh God, Kurt. That must have been terrible."

Kurt nodded, and wiped a tear dribbling down his face. "It was. But his symptoms really weren't that bad until he was older." Kurt sniffled, before rewinding to his previous conversation. "Sorry, I went off on a tangent for a minute. Let me rewind…"

"Oh yes! My dad… He was so angered by the photos and my declaration of love to Blaine that he not only burned the photos, but he decided to send me away. He told me that the next day I would be traveling to Dalton Academy for boys for my senior year of highschool, and in my time there, I would be practicing with Dr. Bentley- a man who was known for 'curing' homosexuality."

Naomi was shocked and utterly disgusted. Dalton? The same Dalton known for their mannerisms and no-tolerance bullying policy? "What?" she asked. "B-but Dalton is…"

"A wonderful school these days," Kurt finished. "But back in the day, they were very well known for their psychology unit, and the progress their students made within it."

"How did Dalton go from that to what it is now?" Naomi inquired.

"I don't know. It blows my mind, too, it really does. But anyways," Kurt said, clearing his throat. "The night before I had to leave, I snuck out of my window and ran as fast as I could to see Blaine. I threw pebbles at his window, telling him to come out. After I told him about having to transfer to Dalton, he took me back to my house where we made a plan to write to each other in code. As silly as it sounds, we decided to call Blaine Abigail, so no one would find out about our feelings for one another. We fell asleep that night wrapped in each other's arms, and when the morning came it hurt to say goodbye. Sadly, my dad ended up finding him, and… violently splitting us up, but within two days I received a letter from my dearest 'Abigail' saying that 'she' was fine. The final line of that letter said, 'I have faith in you, and I can't wait till our reunion. -Abigail A.'


	12. Chapter 11

__**A/N: Get ready for a long A/N. Sorry if anyone got confused that the last chapter was the end, I honestly don't know what happened. But there are only like two or three more chapters so yeeeeaaahh. The song in the last chapter was Bare, from Bare: a Pop Opera which is about two boys who fall in love in a Catholic school, and it's super cute so you should look it up:) So my mom had a type of kidney failure and it was really tough so I thought I would stick to something I know and spread the word. I got most of the details from my dad, who's a pediatrician, so they should be accurate, but as always, call me out if you see something wrong. So, this chapter may be a bit confusing cause there is lots of information, but please bare with me. If you have any questions, pm me or review and I'll be glad to answer. I really hope that you guys are enjoying this story! It's been a roller coaster to write and a great experience! Thanks for your feedback and feel free to send me more! Love you all!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own glee. kjfghsljfghwuhsdkljfhs. Grr. **

_Kurt,_

_ I hope your time at Dalton is swell. I'm sure it's better than the town we call home! I just wanted to let you know I'm cool down here with your Pops, so don't worry that head of yours. And I grabbed some of those boss shots we took for our art class before I left your house, too. I know we already did the assignment, but I thought that they were cool photographs, and I hope you thought so, too. But that was last year, now it's senior year! I can't believe summer break is over already! Soon you'll be on your way to put your handprint on the Walk of Fame, or plaster your name in lights in The Apple. I'm probably gonna apply to NYU, Columbia, Stanford, and UCLA. What about you? _

_ Anyways, I hope you meet all kinds of kids over in Westerville. I wanna hear all about them, and your classes, teachers, etc. Maybe you'll even meet a nice girl for homecoming over at Crawford. But don't forget about your old friends over here in little old Lima, 'cause we sure do miss you. And remember that you are strong and have the capability to do whatever you want to do in life. I have faith in you, and I can't wait till our reunion. –Abigail A._

* * *

><p>"Kurt, that's… how did you- just… wow." Naomi was speechless. It was like she was reading a romance novel. A very tragic romance novel, with plot twists and turns and details she could almost grasp with her fingers, but… no climax. "Did you ever reunite with him? Like you said you would?"<p>

Kurt swallowed dryly before nodding. "After establishing our code via letter, we came up with a plan to apply for colleges in New York and California. When I graduated, we both went to New York University for college, me studying musical theater, and Blaine studying art history. It took me months to convince my dad, who still wasn't active in my personal life to let me go, but eventually I got through to him.

"Blaine and I lived in separate dorm rooms, but were able to see each other in secrecy without too much hassle. And the underground gay community was relatively prominent and thriving in New York around that time, so that helped us make connections."

Naomi was fascinated. Kurt had escaped this… this terror of a life and found a world of his own with the love of his life. It was too good to be true… "Kurt. I hope you don't mind me asking, but how did you deal with seeing Blaine after a year of 'counseling' at Dalton? I mean, what was that like?"

Kurt's eyes closed very slowly, like dripping sap from a freshly cut pine branch. His hands shook and trembled and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down jerkily. "Um- well… it was hard to s-say the least," he said, stuttering a bit on his t's and s's. "The therapy was intense, and I endured hours of listening to how I was going to be cured from the disease I was given by… Blaine. I could deal with what they told me about myself because I knew I loved Blaine, but when they told me 'how selfish it was for Blaine to thrust this lust upon me…" I couldn't take it. Sure, there were days when the world was bleak and every shock they gave me ripped me apart, but I could manage as long as there was a letter sitting on my doorstep, which there always was."

Naomi spoke in a hoarse whisper. "They shocked you?"

"Among other things," Kurt confirmed. "And many days, I thought that what they were doing was valid. Sometimes I just wrapped myself up in the thought that I was sick and needed to accept that there was something wrong with me. Blaine got me through the worst of it, yet at the same time the thought of him could make me sick. Sick with worry, grief; fear that he would be caught like I was. But he kept me sane.

"The day we reconnected… everything was different. I still loved him, of course I did, but I felt off. I hadn't seen him in almost a year. When he kissed me, I couldn't kiss back. I couldn't hold him like I used to. It took another year or two to get back on the track we were on before. But Blaine stuck by my side through every break down, panic attack, and nightmare. And he told me he loved me every day, even when I couldn't say it back."

Naomi basked in Kurt's story, sinking in each detail with awe. It was inspiring that in even the bleakest situation, Kurt and Blaine found each other and were able to push through from there. Through the thick and the thin, they supported one another, whether it be with words, actions, or simple gestures, and not a day went by where they didn't wish for the best for the other.

* * *

><p>Kurt stood up with a groan, cracking the joints in his knees and back. He turned back to Naomi. "I'm sorry, this is all the sad, sappy stuff. Let me pour us some water and then I'll get to the interesting part of my story. If there is one."<p>

"There's more?" Naomi asked. "Isn't that just happily ever after?"

Kurt laughed heartily. "Oh no! You have to remember, Naomi that I'm almost seventy-two years old. My life didn't just stop when I went to college." Kurt sipped his water, passing a full cup to Naomi. "I had a career, a family, and like everyone, I had a dream."

Naomi went back to sit in her chair as Kurt pulled out a thick book bound with a leather cover. He dusted off the cover, flipping it in his hands a few times before coming to sit down next to Naomi. "This," Kurt said proudly, "is a recollection of what came and went. A scrapbook of life, you could say."

Kurt opened the cover, the dry leather making a creaky sound when it stretched. The first page showed an array of photos of an apartment. A living room, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom- it was very straightforward. "This was the first apartment Blaine and I owned. We told everyone who asked that we were rooming together, but this is where the magic in our lives began." Kurt flipped the page. "I had decided to stick to Broadway instead of film and I landed several smaller parts on the stage in the first five or so years of living with Blaine. In the mean time, Blaine had opened up his own studio and photography business. He did everything from photography for professional art shows to family portraits, but he made a decent living." With each word, Kurt pointed to a new image or piece of memorabilia in the book. A playbill, a ticket, a dried chrysanthemum, an old roll of film. It was all there.

Kurt turned the page again, but this time, faces appeared in the many photographs pasted neatly in the book. Kurt sighed. "After I left Dalton I felt… inspired to do something more with my life than light up a stage. It's great to jazz square your way into fame, but what real work does that take? So all throughout college I took part in peaceful and not-so-peaceful protests, like the one I told you about when I first got arrested." An image of Kurt outside a county jail stood out on the page. "I protested everything. Racial profiling, racism in general, sexism, the war in Vietnam, the lack of attention going to malnourished children, and anything else you could think of."

Kurt pinched his pointer-finger and thumb around the corner of the page to turn it, but Naomi reached out and grabbed his hand. Kurt's head spun towards Naomi with a question in his eyes. It was nothing judgmental, just a question. "What about gay rights? Did you fight for that?"

Kurt dropped the page in his grasp. He seemed conflicted if he should lie or speak the truth, with is face clenching and relaxing over and over again. His face was relaxed when he told Naomi what she thought was the truth. "After leaving Dalton, I didn't have the strength to face the issues I had encountered myself. I wanted the struggle to end, but I couldn't find the drive I knew I had deep inside me. It was invisible."

Naomi considered that, wanting to say how much he could have impacted society with his story, but thought better of it and just smiled in response to Kurt's answer. She reached over to Kurt's lap and flipped to the next page. It was completely filled with cracked, brown leaves.

Kurt chuckled at the page, running his fingers over the cellophane lining above the leaves. "These were from our tree," Kurt told Naomi.

"The oak tree back in Lima?"

"The very same," Kurt said. He sounded like an old maid, recounting her adventures to her grandchildren who sat at her feet eagerly awaiting a new tale. "We collected one leaf every time we visited the tree. The last one we picked is twenty-seven years old. They cut it down only days later."

Naomi touched the page, noticing the color difference between the leaves towards the bottom and the leaves towards the top. She felt their rigid stems, and listened to them crackle like burnt-out fire embers upon her touch. It felt so intimate and private to look into this book that Blaine and Kurt shared as memorabilia of everything they had and did through the good and the ugly. But watching Kurt's face ease into a grin as he looked at each page, she felt her insecurities sink lower and lower into her body until they completely vanished into the ground.

* * *

><p>More pages brought more and more events. Blaine's artistry thrived, and Kurt's voice became a national success through the Gershwin, Marquis, Majestic, Nederlander, Palace, New Amsterdam, and Winter Garden Theater in NYC. She saw signs of Blaine joining Kurt's passion for social justice, and dozens of photos of Kurt taken all over the world. But towards the end of the book came a new recurring face. Dark hair, green eyes, and tiny clenched fists filled each frame.<p>

"Is… is that… Lillian?"

Yearning filled Kurt's eyes with tears and he looked at Naomi with confusion. "Who told you that?"

"Nancy. You kept calling me Lillian yesterday so she explained that she's your daughter. But that's all she said!" Naomi finished, quickly throwing in the last piece as a safety.

Kurt looked surprised at her confession. Naomi could tell that he felt bad, but since he didn't remember that potion of his day for whatever reason, he didn't know what to say. "I should have told you about her earlier. It's time I ended my story for once and for all, and this is probably where we should begin." Kurt wrung his hangs together, twisting his wrists back and forth with anxiety. "My friend Rachel and her husband Finn had Lillian in 1975, and they loved her more than life itself. She was their greatest gift, and it was their life ambition to raise her healthily and happily. But when Lillian was two, Finn and Rachel got in a terrible boating accident, which led them to their death. I was Lillian's legal guardian, so she was passed to me after her parents' death and I raised her like my own child. Since I lived with Blaine, Lillian was as much his child as mine, and he raised her as a father figure.

"By that point in time, being gay was something you could be a little more open about with the gay rights movement in full swing, so almost everyone we were close with knew about our relationship status. But no matter where we went, we would not be considered a family. Yes, people recognized I was Lillian's legal guardian, but Blaine was always put on the side. Years earlier, Blaine and I had agreed that because of the things I had seen and watched at Dalton, neither of us would become seriously involved in the gay rights movement, but Blaine was getting tired of the injustice and wanted to make a change.

"The day Harvey Milk was assassinated, he snapped. He said it was the perfect time for a change. All he wanted was for people to recognize our love for each other and our daughter. So I let him go to a large protest formed by outraged supporters of deceased Harvey Milk. I stayed home with Lillian that night, but for the first time since she had come to us, I wish I hadn't.

"Two hours later, I got a call from the nearest hospital saying that Blaine had collapsed instantly from what the doctors assumed was his Poly Cystic Kidney Disease acting up. Sadly, they were correct. There has never been a medication to cease the cysts from forming, so after all those years of being seemingly fine, more cysts had grown and covered the entirety of one of his kidneys, and it had begun to fail. The other one was just showing signs of the cysts, so once it was covered, too, that would be it. You can live with one kidney, but you can't live with none. That's why he started smoking in college, you know. To ease the pain of the disease, and the fears that came with it"

Tears were dripping steadily from Kurt's eyes, and while Naomi had seen his eyes moisten, he had never witnessed Kurt genuinely cry. It was like watching her dad cry, helpless and heartbroken for the entire world to see. Naomi scooted her chair as close to Kurt as she could, and leaned her head on Kurt's shoulder. He really was like family to her.

Kurt looked at her with appreciation before continuing. "It was a slow process. It wasn't like normal kidney failure, and while Blaine _was_ slowing down, he could still do most of what he normally could do with two working kidneys. While he couldn't box, he spent more time with Lillian, and went to more gay rights protests, claiming that 'he wanted to see the day when we could be married.' And he did a lot more photography. Intense, dark photography with a message, along with pictures of Lillian and I. It was his passion after all.

"But the day he couldn't get his fingers strong enough to press down on the button of his camera… he just… broke. He barely had the strength to do anything by then, so I had to spend all of my time attending to him. I was so stressed out by Blaine and Lillian and my job, that I became unhealthy. My singing became strained onstage, and before I knew it, I had to retire from my career on Broadway after a surgery on my vocal chords. We were lucky enough to have the choice to retire at such a young age, but neither of us wanted to. But that's why I have the raspy tone you can hear now.

"Anyways, Lillian was less than happy. Blaine and I were both retired and didn't give her as much attention as she needed through high school and college. When she was twenty-two (that was 1997) she met someone who had convinced her that the fact that we were gay was the reason we were unfit parents."

Naomi's jaw sagged a little, and her eyelids spread open. "That's absurd!"

Kurt nodded. "It was, but for some reason, it clicked for her. They ran away together after college to get married, after informing us that what we contributed to society was sick and selfish. I haven't heard from them since."

Naomi's heart cracked a little bit deeper. "What about Blaine?" she asked in the most delicate whisper she could muster.

"Blaine passed in 2001," Kurt said. "He wanted Lillian there so badly but she didn't come. He died in his sleep after we recited hypothetical wedding vows to each other. It was peaceful, and he's better off now. He didn't deserve the struggle he was given."

A secret relationship between two men. Poly Cystic Kidney Disease. A program for boys who are struggling with 'the homosexual curse.' Social rights activism. A career on Broadway. A god-child. A vocal surgery. Early retirement. The hypothetical loss of a child to homophobia. The _actual_ loss of a lover. It was too much, and Kurt had been through it all. He deserved joy.

"You really loved him, didn't you?" Naomi asked, knowingly.

Kurt laced a small smile on his lips. "So much."

"This may seem inappropriate, but I think you should find new love, Kurt. Not forget about your old love, but find more," Naomi suggested, rubbing Kurt's arm.

Kurt looked at Naomi with a solid stare. His eyes were still icy gray, and shone with so many memories. "After I reunited with Blaine at the end of senior year, I told him I would never say goodbye to him. Never means never in our _whole_ lives. Blaine kept that promise, and didn't say goodbye to me until his death, and it wasn't even his promise to keep. I don't break promises either, so I will not be saying goodbye to Blaine until my final day on this planet. Blaine's may have, but my forever hasn't ended yet."


	13. Chapter 12

**__****A/N: Wow. I kinda suck at this updating thing. School's been crazy, and yeah... but to the people you have been waiting for an update, I really am sorry. I need to take responsibility *throws head back in exasperation.* But I hope you like zee chapter, huhuhah! And who liked glee for the first time in a while *raises hand.* If you did, you could _totally_ pm me or something, but pppfffttt, it's not _necessary_. (PLEASE, REVIEW OR PM CAUSE IM LONELY.)**

**Oh yes. Before I go. Darren's arms in It's Time. Just take a moment to pray for what you have been given.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

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><p><em>"You were healthy. You were healthy for so long," Kurt murmured into the burnt sky. "You were healthy and strong, and you held me together. I was like… a broken puzzle, Blaine. My edges were rough, and my joints wouldn't stay together. You were the only way that I could grow and prosper, and now you're gone. And I'm broken." Kurt's hair was unkempt and lit up in starlight as it blew disobediently in the night breeze, as he sat in tall grass. He didn't know where he was; he only knew that it was quiet. Quiet enough that Blaine could hear him through the mist and in the stars. 'That's where he lives now,' Kurt told himself. 'With the stars.'<em>

_ The leaves blew in response to Kurt's speech, ruffling casually. "I honestly thought that it wouldn't flare up- the disease- and that your kidney's wouldn't collapse. I thought we would be together like married couples are supposed to be- in sickness and in health. I guess I thought that our bond would keep us living healthily. I couldn't have been more wrong," Kurt spat. "I couldn't even keep the rest of our family together. Lillian still hasn't come back, Blaine."_

_ Kurt lied back in the moistened grass, wrapped in a red and white checked picnic blanket. His eyes wandered into the midnight lights, twinkling like blinking eyes from the heavens. They were oh so peaceful, and Kurt liked to think that whom he loved sat upon those stars, kicking their legs back and forth, hands clasped under their chins, listening to what he said. Some nights, he thought that they would respond when they weren't too busy listening to other people's worries and troubles. _

_ "I can't find her, Blaine, and I'm utterly lost in this… vortex. She may be grown up, but she's our baby even though she doesn't want to be. She doesn't want us anymore, my love…"_

_ Kurt rolled over so the wet soil smudged his white cheek, like a canvas, and he wrapped the corners of the blanket tighter around his chin. He watched an ant crawl up a stalk of dewy grass, wondering if he ever felt the weight of the world on his shoulders or if the simplicity of his life was the most overwhelming thing he could face._

_ "You know I can't stand to see her cry, Blaine. It hurt when she caught the flu when she was two, it hurt when she was misunderstood as the only girl in the house when she was twelve, and it hurt when she screamed we ruined her chances at being normal when she was twenty-two. And the worst of all was knowing when _we_ made her cry, or when she couldn't accept our apologies. I was her daddy and I loved being that everyday, but all she wanted was a mommy. But I couldn't give that to her, and she couldn't forgive that," Kurt rasped in his altered tone. _

_ "And all I cared about was my stupid career and lighting up a stage. I thought she liked our family dynamic, but it only dragged her down."_

_ Kurt could practically see the stars dimming with shame and disappointment at his comment, so he sat up and glared at the stars. "You know it's true, Blaine! I was unfit and reckless! I'm wasn't cut-out for the parenting thing like you were!" Kurt admitted, shameful tears streaking his wind-chapped skin. "She loved you so much, Blaine, and she couldn't even be called yours! And her entire life she saw you in the sickly state you were in, unable to find the life you once had in you, that she couldn't find in me either! She loved you so much, God dammit! And so did I!"_

_ Kurt's tears were steaming down his face from the rage in his eyes and the crush of his heart. He stood up, dropping the blanket, and threw his shaking head towards the clouds._

_ "I loved you so much, Blaine! You were the only one I ever loved, Blaine, and it's your fault that I won't ever love again, because I can't! I can't because I can't love anyone but you! I don't know how to love someone else!" Kurt sobbed hysterically as he shouted at the sky. He clutched his hiccupping stomach and keeled over, to contain his gasping, sharp heaves of tears but it was no use. "I-I l-lo-oved yo-you! And-d y-you lef-fftt m-me… an-nd I d-don't-t kn-know what t-to d-do…"_

_ Kurt's deathly rage slowly shut down, until the empty void was filled with despair, and he could speak in clear sentences. "It was so hard watching you suffer, but I know that you're in a better place. I'm not trying to blame anything on you. It wasn't your fault, and I'm being completely too selfish, but it wasn't fair, Blaine. For either of us. I didn't want you to g-go." Kurt reeled in a large sob before pulling the forgotten blanket over his shoulders. "I only had one wish, Blaine. And I knew it was irrational, but I wished and wished and wished for it to come true every day and night. I wished on lucky pennies, eyelashes, birthday candles, everything. And my wish was for us to die at the same time, so neither of us would have to face the loss of love. Sadly, my attempts were pointless."_

_ Kurt sniffed and wiped his nose on his cotton sleeve in the chill of the night before gazing up at the star where Blaine sat one more time. "But I still love you. I love you and Lillian the same amount as I did yesterday, and a month ago, and a year ago, and five years ago, and all hose decades ago when we first fell in love. And tomorrow I will continue to love you the same amount as I do today. That's a promise."_

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><p>Naomi couldn't study, or concentrate, or speak, or even think. Her classes seemed dull, and the stories her friends blabbered on about were so pointless compared to Kurt's. People were suffering out in the big, big world all alone, and all anyone else could think about was how miserable their split ends were. And every time someone mentioned a stupid fight with his or her boyfriend, all Naomi could do was seethe. She knew it wasn't fair, and she knew that her friend's problems were relevant, but she just didn't <em>care. <em>

Her head was scrambled, and no matter what she did she couldn't stop thinking about what Kurt had told her. _"Our forever hasn't ended yet."_ It hadn't? How? Did Kurt believe in heaven? Wasn't he an atheist now? It was too much to process. And all those questions led her back to Blaine. Blaine, with a failing body except for his ever-growing heart. Blaine, with the runaway daughter whom he never got to say goodbye to before his passing. Blaine, who devoted his life to the man he could never legally call his.

So Naomi walked out. What was the point of staying in an extra-credit class she didn't even like for the last hour of school? Apparently the teacher thought there was a point, but she wasn't Kurt, and Kurt was all that mattered right now. She knew it was immature and that she was overreacting to something that happened years ago, but for some reason she couldn't. Let. It. Go.

Which is how Naomi ended up curled up on her regular chair in Kurt's room watching the fuzzy picture on the compact TV in the corner. Her breath was minty due to the watery tea she clutched against her chest, and with every breath she took her sinuses became clearer and clearer until her mind finally felt deserted.

Kurt watched her carefully from his perch in his chair. He had been silently scrolling through the titles of old recorded performances he had done in his younger years when there was a flurry of knocking fists on his door. He frantically opened the pounding door to relieve himself of the disturbing sound, only to find a panting Naomi outside of his room. _"I ran,"_ she had said, and in an effort to calm her down, Kurt pulled her inside before asking any pressing questions.

After fetching her some tea, he found her with the remote in her hand asking if he would mind her reviewing some of his old work in New York. With the exception of Blaine, Lillian, and a few close friends, he never had invited anyone to his shows, and had certainly not thrust his recorded ones in other's faces, so he was shy about the idea of letting Naomi watch what he had done years on the past.

But as he was readying his negative response, he saw how big Naomi's eyes were. He knew she must have had a bad day if she had ditched school to come over, and it just seemed wrong to deny her a simple tape of an old Broadway hit or two. So Kurt reluctantly replied that, yes, she could watch a few on the TV, landing them in their comfortable positions an hour or two later. Aside from the speakers of the TV and a few comments of wonder from Naomi, it was mostly silent in Kurt's room, which for the first time felt… odd. Kurt was so used to Naomi trying to chat up a storm, but her lack of enthusiasm had filled up the air with nothingness.

Kurt wanted to say something, but anytime he tried he would come up short. He wasn't good at conversation, and since Blaine had died and Lillian had left, he didn't want to be. But now was different. He wanted to talk to Naomi; ask her if she was okay, or if she needed help. Yet at the same time, he worried that he would say the wrong thing and upset Naomi even more. Everything he touched wilted and died, and he couldn't let that happen to Naomi because of his stupid insecurities and scars.

It took him three minutes of staring at the TV to realize that Naomi had turned it off. Startled at the black screen, Kurt shot his head towards Naomi who was looking at him earnestly. Her cup was still in her fingers and her knees were still clenched around her torso, giving her a look she had never dawned before: vulnerability.

"You were really great up there," she told Kurt with a nod. "You have a gift."

Kurt took his chance to lighten the mood, only to fall flat on his back. "_Had_ a gift, remember? It's not that special anyways," Kurt chuckled light-heartedly. But when he didn't hear Naomi's laughter, too, he glanced in her direction to find her face sodden with disappointment.

Kurt stood up, his back arguing with him as he did, and trudged over to Naomi. He stood in front of her sulking figure and tapped one of his fingers to her pouted lower-lip. It bobbed underneath his pulsating rhythm, and Naomi's eyes just rolled up to look at a mock-saddened Kurt.

"You've got a little birdy on your lip," he said with a sad smile. "This is a night-birdy and it's gonna rest there until that frown goes away, like the moon does at night. Your frown is the moon, and your smile is the sun. So the night-birdy will fly away when the sun comes up, but until then, I suppose it has found a new home."

Kurt could see the muscles in Naomi's jaw relaxing, and his smile brightened along with hers. He lifted his finger from her chapstick smeared lip, and wiped it on his pant leg. "I think that the little night-birdy wants to know why it has to move away from its new home."

Naomi placed her cup on the coffee table and lowered her legs to the ground. She motioned for Kurt to sit back down, and as he did Naomi folded her hands neatly in front of her. "The night-birdy had to leave because I'm not sad anymore. It has to go help other people who are sad now."

Kurt nodded slowly, his smile lingering on his lips as his voice retraced itself back to its more serious, sympathetic tone. "Why were you sad, Naomi? And why did you leave school early today to come here?"

Naomi shrugged. "I like it here, and class was almost over. Simple as that."

Kurt frowned at her answer. He knew that she could twist the truth but he wasn't up for games. "No, not 'simple as that.' I know you, and you don't just drop your class to come visit me. Your education is very important to you, Naomi, and don't you dare try to think that I don't know that by now." Kurt didn't want Naomi to feel scolded, but his inner-parent had escaped his body and as much as he didn't want to admit it, he felt like a parent to Naomi. It wasn't that he didn't like the girl, oh no, quite the opposite. But he didn't want to rub off on Naomi in a negative way, like he thought he had with Lillian.

Naomi sighed. "I can't stop thinking about you… and Blaine," she whispered. "I know that sounds weird, but…"

Kurt raised an eyebrow, but continued to listen as Naomi trailed off.

"I can't stop thinking about your story. About your struggle to hold on to what you had, and how you lost what you were gifted with." Naomi held a serious gaze with Kurt. Her eyes were pale and her irises swirled down to the black pit below, where she continued to stare at Kurt, like she was challenging him to say something different. When she got no answer, she kept going. "All day I listen to complaints about the small things in life that go wrong, when there are people like you suffering much more than they ever will. And you, especially, didn't deserve what came to you, just like all those other people with the troubling pasts and the big hearts."

Kurt didn't like what he was hearing. He never wanted to burden Naomi with his own worries and fears, but he ended up doing just that. He had hoped she would move on and look towards her brighter future. He should have known better that Naomi would do no such thing, and that she would continue to fill herself into the problem until she found a solution. "Naomi, no one's problems are unimportant. Everyone has his or her own reasons to complain. And anyways, my story has ended. This was all a long time ago-"

"You were all alone when Blaine died, and you haven't properly healed from that. How am I supposed to feel closure when you haven't even had any yourself?"

Kurt face morphed into a mixture of loss and shame. Closure meant healing the wounds that could never form back into skin. "I have plenty of closure, Naomi."

"Then why are you loosing sleep over the things you lost? You are making yourself sick, Kurt, and I can't stand to see that!"

Kurt was instantly brought back to Lillian yelling wildly at him. Screaming that he and Blaine had wrecked her, and that they were monsters for believing that they could raise a child. Storming out of the house with her hand locked around… _his._ "Look, Naomi, you may not like hearing this, but I am not making myself-"

"You are! You are driving yourself insane by tap-dancing around the problem!" Naomi whined. "I know that you are being more open about this whole thing, but your story is only missing one piece. A happy ending."

Kurt clenched his jaw and let it drop over and over again, his argument of how to reply causing his muscles to tighten and strain with their quarrel. Happy endings were always nice, but since when did Kurt have the option of a happy ending. Happiness alone was a rarity in his life, so a happy ending was the last thing he could expect.

Naomi watched Kurt's internal struggle, before offering her input. "I hope that this isn't overstepping, but you mean something to me. I feel… connected to you, in a sense. Like… you're a member of my family. And the one thing I can't take is when my family is hurting. It drove me insane watching my parents fight all the time, and seeing the repercussions of their words was even worse. It's the same thing for me about you.

"I know that it isn't my place, but please, Kurt, do something to make this okay. I'm here if you need me, but you _need_ closure."

Kurt once again stood from his chair, and slowly and shyly shuffled over to Naomi. He held his arms open and let them fall down to Naomi's level. Naomi stared at them for a second before looking up at Kurt again.

Kurt coughed awkwardly, and averted his eyes. "Can you do me a favor?" he asked.

Naomi nodded.

"Can I- is it weird if I… hug you?"

Naomi sucked her lips inwards and pressed them together to withhold her outrageous smile. She bolted out of her chair and grasped her hands around Kurt's neck. Kurt's body was so tense that his breathing had stopped. It had been over a decade since he had been hugged. It was tight and warm and… so loving. And for a few seconds, Kurt forgot about Blaine. He forgot about the disease and the surgeries and the protests and the burned photographs. He forgot about his lost daughter. Because all he could focus on was the pride he had in Naomi. Kurt let his arms collapse around Naomi's waist and he squeezed tightly to keep himself from loosing his control over his emotions. Naomi had saved him, and one day, Kurt wanted to be able to say that he saved Naomi, too.


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N: Sorry again. Late. Real late. B-b-b-but, there was homework and so many FEELS from 4x04. I'm still depressed. So I started writing a small mutli-chapter (maybe) fic on the episode. God, it makes me so MADLY SAD. But we are almost at the end of this story, and if you need a friend to cry to about Glee, I'm here. It's not my whole life I swear, but sometimes you just need a shoulder to cry on...**_  
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**Please review even though I'm a sucky updater. It means a lot:) Thanks for your help guys!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee then Blaine's apology to Kurt would have been legit. And he wouldn't have cheated. In other words, I don't own the show.**

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><p><em>"You hate me, don't you? You have this vengeance against me, right?" Lillian's eyes were solidly focused on her father. Kurt had his hand clasped around Blaine's so tightly that he could feel each of the swollen joints in Blaine's fingers. Kurt couldn't look into his daughter's eyes, as if her steely glare was Medusa's, so instead he bowed his head in Blaine's direction. <em>

_ Blaine's body was covered in goose bumps from his diagnosis and from Lillian's words. His hairline was dripping in cold sweat, and his constantly shivering lip was vibrating violently in pain. Kurt could barely stand to look at his love in such agony, yet he was completely incapable of even glancing at his daughter._

_ Blaine opened his quivering lips. "Lillian, you know we love you with all our hearts…" Kurt could tell how he was struggling with his speech. He was so sad, and sick…_

_ But Lillian forced a scowl. "You only ever loved each other. If you can call this love." Her stature grew and she squared her shoulders. "What we have," she motioned between her and a man in the doorway, cheering her on, "is love."_

_ Kurt finally looked up into his daughter's eyes. Beneath all of that anger, he could only see hurt. He knew that Lillian was lying to herself. "Whose opinions are you representing? His?" Kurt motioned to the monster hovering over his daughter. The monster that threw their family askew. "Because I don't see how you can say that from your position. I don't see how you can say that to our faces when our love was the only love you ever knew. You didn't even know what an 'ideal family' was supposed to look like until you were ten!" Kurt's mask was detailed with concern and firmness, but beneath it his face only held fear of loosing his daughter. "What changed in _your own_ head?" _

_ Lillian seemed frantic for half a second, but she found an answer in record time. "YOU DID! You used to spend so much time with me! But poor Blaine's kidney failure flared up and oh no, don't you dare think about little old Lillian! She was just a play toy, a doll for you to dress up._

_ "And then dear old Blaine didn't have energy for me either. He needed to spend the precious time he had left with his beloved Kurt."_

_ Blaine doubled over in his seat, clutching his stomach for air. He heaved and sobbed, shaking like a leaf. Lillian's words had pierced him. His frail arms wrapped around his torso and squeezed to rid of the hurt, but it wouldn't cease._

_ All Kurt could do was pale. He knew that he hadn't pampered his child twenty-four/ seven when Blaine in the state he was in, but had she ever felt… neglected? He stood up precariously and strode over to Lillian. "You don't really believe that, do you? We had family outings every Sunday until you were twelve. You used to bake with me when Blaine had his bad days. You would work with Blaine in his studio on art projects for school. We went shopping for your first dance together…" he asked in such a hoarse whisper, it sounded like wind._

_ "By tenth-grade it was gone. All you cared about was staying by his side."_

_ "We didn't forget you. You said you wanted independence, and we gave it to you, but we still ate dinner together. You still told us you loved us, and we did the same."_

_ Kurt saw the liquid glass filling her eyes. She was so scared and so confused, she didn't know what she was doing. She found love in someone who wanted her to erase her connections, and that was what she was doing. Kurt and Blaine both knew what it felt like to be so in love that you would do anything for the other person, but anyone should know that what this man was asking Lillian to do was unreasonable. He had already influenced her enough. And right when her father's were pushing her back on the right track, she pulled herself away from them once again, and broke any and all connections she had to New York City._

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><p>Kurt knew that Naomi couldn't come today. <em>Family stuff, <em>she had called it. Kurt wanted that. Family stuff. So he tried to have some. Family stuff.

He pulled out Blaine's favorite gray cardigan from a box high up in his closet and folded it under his arm. Blaine used to wear it at least once a week to school, but once he filled out in college from all the boxing, it didn't fit him anymore. But it was Kurt's favorite piece of Blaine's clothing, too, so he stored it away in a box with a few other articles for a time like this.

The fraying man also clipped stalks of Lily of the Valley from his porch and wrapped them in a moist cloth to keep them fresh. _"Pretty name, huh? I wanna name our daughter that one day,"_ Blaine had said. Kurt only gave Blaine Lily of the Valley after that.

Kurt slowly walked to the front desk to ask for a shuttle ride. He knew that Lima was a long drive, but hey, he had all day. With a little bit of convincing, a watery 'thank you,' and a twenty-dollar tip for the free ride, Kurt was on his way to Lima. The driver was kind enough, and he understood that Kurt didn't need company, so Kurt was able to think for a few hours. He cracked the window and let the breeze drift through his thin hair. It made his eyelashes tickle his cheeks once he closed his lids, and he almost felt like laughing from the sensation. He didn't, but he felt like it. That was a good sign.

Kurt stared at the rushing cars, rewinding songs to match their pace in his head. Songs from his time on the stage. Even a short melody or two he wrote for Blaine and Lillian in his time of strength. Granted, he never sang them aloud, but the lullabye-esque tunes were stuck in his mind, and he took advantage of them.

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><p>It was almost 10:30 a.m. by the time he opened the gate to Lima Memorial Cemetery. It was true that Kurt hated Lima, but the grass was always greener there. Literally not metaphorically.<p>

Kurt strolled through the lanes of headstones. It was surprising how beautiful the cemetery was. There were oriental poppies bursting out of the soil along with Black Eyed Susan's, with a perfectly circular reflection pool in the center of the plot of land. The idea was that when you looked into the pond, you would see yourself _and_ the person you were mourning over your shoulder. Most people called it crazy, but it was Kurt's favorite part.

The odd part, though, was that Kurt didn't know anyone buried here. No, Blaine was cremated, and his mother was buried somewhere in his late grandparent's ranch. But Kurt wanted somewhere like this to weep, where there were other people who felt the same way he did. So, pinches of Blaine's ashes were dusted into the pond after a simple negotiation with the owner's of the cemetery.

Kurt rested himself under a maple tree and stretched his legs towards the shimmering pond. He rested the Lilies of the Valley beside him before pulling on Blaine's cardigan and wrapping his arms around himself. If he pretended hard enough, Kurt could almost feel Blaine's arms holding him steady.

"I brought you Lilies… again," Kurt chuckled lightly. "They may seem mundane, but it's all I'm able to grow anymore. You've ruined me." Kurt played along with his own bantering conversation. He let himself slide his eyes closed and grasp his own waist with a tighter force.

"I'm forgetting your laugh. And it's scaring me. I know that I could watch a home video, but I feel like it would be too fake, or plastic, so to say, because it's canned inside of a television.

"Your laugh made me laugh, you know. The way you would cry when something got funny, or how you would get stomach cramps because your laughter overtook you with joy. The way you would swing me around in your arms, but then make us tumble over because you were in too many hysterics. I miss that.

"And I miss the way we did the dishes, and I miss the way we ran away on weekends, and I miss the way we talked to the moon, and the way you would always save bugs inside the apartment. Or the way you would share a mint tea with me every Thursday night, and we would talk about our day before Lillia-"

Kurt cut himself off. Blaine never let him talk about Lillian after she left, but every now and then it slipped. But he couldn't keep avoiding the subject of their long lost daughter.

"Lillian is a pretty close name to Lily, huh? Lily of the Valley? Lillian of the Valley? That never hit me until now."

It was a strange feeling that Kurt felt the tension in the air even though Blaine wasn't there. It was like Kurt had this string wrapped around his wrist that connected to Blaine's wrist. Whenever Lillian was spoken of, the cord tightened.

"I hope you get to see her again, Blaine. Where ever you are. I may not believe in heaven, but I hope that one day, when both of us are reunited in that other dimension of souls and ghosts you live in now, we will speak to Lillian. I know that you can see me, I feel your presence all the time, but have you checked in on _her_?"

Kurt felt chills and he covered his hands with the sleeves of the sweater, and used his breath to warm his fingers. It really wasn't cold out, but this speech made him… tingly. Kurt slowly felt the string around his wrist loosen, and he chose his time to speak and stand up to go get a muffin from the coffee shop across the street.

"I love you, my dear, but just like me, you are a marvelous deflector. Open up. The last thing I forgot to mention is that I miss your tears. I hated seeing you in pain, but you were a beautiful crier."

Kurt brushed the dirt off his pants and off Blaine's cardigan. He slowly walked over to the pond and stared at his gangly reflection. Kurt squeezed his eyes together to conjure up an image, and when he opened his eyes he locked eyes with brilliant hazel. There was a mop of raven curls and olive skin, smudged with dirt. There were no wrinkles on the face, but youthful smile lines occupied the boy's image. Kurt looked back at his own face, realizing that he, too, was decades younger.

Kurt kneeled on the bank of the pool and reached out his fingers, longing to touch. The last sight he saw was a dissipating smile in a swirl of mirroring ripples.


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: I'm so sorry. I really, truly am. But my schedule is CRAZY. I've been in four to six hour rehearsals every day and have to do intense homework. My life. And this chapter is short!:'( But it's a shocker, so prepare! Thanks for the reviews, they make my life better and lovelier:D Glee is on thursday so whoooooop, and enjoy the tiny chapter of love I shall gift you...**_  
><em>

**Don't own Glee.**

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><p><em>"Blaine, you have to eat something."<em>

_ Kurt was so worried about Blaine. After Lillian left, Blaine's stability had gotten thrown off. His medications did no good, and he drank very little fluids. Not to mention his blood pressure running all over the place, and the constant fever._

_ "Not hungry." Blaine lay in bed, with a book in his hands. He flippantly turned the pages with a frown, ignoring the way Kurt crossed his arms at his attitude. _

_ Kurt demanded Blaine's focus again, but was promptly brushed off with an eye roll. Kurt huffed and pulled Blaine's book out of his hands, quickly noting the title. "Parental Problems and Solutions." _

_ "Hey! Kurt, I was reading t-"_

_ "I know." Kurt silenced Blaine with a cold look. His arms were still crossed, and he was standing over Blaine at the foot of the bed. "But you need to stop."_

_ Blaine circled his eyes in a full revolution again before scoffing. "You're such a hypocrite! I'm doin' what's best to get back our daugh-"_

_ "Don't you get it?" Kurt yelled, throwing the book on the floor with a dry laugh. "She isn't coming back, Blaine!"_

_ Blaine sat straight up in bed. "Stop bein' so damn negative about this! We love her, and she loves us!"_

_ Kurt just stared at Blaine incredulously with a deep set of wrinkles in his forehead. Kurt stared at Blaine's unkempt hair and dangling clothes and gaunt face. His look showed determination and defeat, love and hatred, and that scared Kurt._

_ "Love, she's gone. It's been almost six months, Blaine, and there's been no response."_

_ "No, you- you don't get it, Kurt. She'll be comin' back so-"_

_ "Listen to yourself." Kurt stood straight up in front of Blaine. "Your bad grammar is coming back like it always does when you get stressed, and you never get out of bed! When we were young, there was nothing that could stop us from being together. Lillian is going through the same thing. We have to give her space."_

_ Blaine folded his arms over his sagging chest, but kept his shoulders broad. Kurt could see his defensiveness cracking in his eyes, but his strength on the issue stood. "And you gonna let that 'love' ruin our relationship with her? You saw that look she got, when we talked to her. She was scared, Kurt!"_

_ Kurt buried his face in his palms and mumbled 'I know' over and over again. When he looked up, he saw Blaine nibbling on his lip._

_ "What do we do?"_

_ Blaine shook his head and sighed. "I don't know, Hun. I just don't know."_

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><p>Naomi was driving herself insane. Facebook, phonebooks, Google, Twitter, and nothing. Lillian Hummel nor Lillian Anderson nor Lillian Hummel-Anderson existed online. The problem was that she most likely didn't go by Hummel or Anderson anymore. Not to mention the fact that she didn't know what Lillian looked like. Yes, she saw a few pictures of her when she was young from the photo album Kurt showed her, but the images didn't pass the age of eight.<p>

She did have the option of asking Kurt for more information, but she didn't want to give her intentions away. She needed to find Lillian and fast, or Kurt would catch on and finish what she started. And Kurt _needed_ to see his daughter again. He _needed_ it.

It's a mystery when someone's life will end, and even though Kurt took pride in his health, at his age you could never be too sure. That scared Naomi most of all.

So Naomi schemed, and that afternoon she asked Kurt to see more of Blaine's photography.

"Why?" Kurt asked.

"It was beautiful. Can't a girl look at some beautiful photography?"

Kurt looked skeptical. No, teenage girl wanted to look at some beautiful photography. Seventeen magazine asides. Blaine's photos were studio good; gallery good. Not Target cutesy or slutty good to convince readers to spend cash on gold-painted plastic.

"Why now?"

"Sounds fun."

Photography viewing. Fun for a forty-plus-year old or sophisticated thirty-nine year old. Naomi was sure sweet but facades needed breaking sometimes.

"Photography isn't fun for teens, Naomi. Spill."

Naomi bit her cheek. _Crap, crap, crap. _"Kurt, you saw how invested I was in your story. I barely got to see Blaine and he's like… the Noah Calhoun. You can't understand a romantic story with the lack of a Noah Calhoun."

Kurt laughed a real laugh of dry bells. "So I'm Allie Hamilton?"

Naomi's eyes crinkled into crow's feet. "I'd say so."

Another laugh from Kurt. "I associate Blaine more with Jack Dawson. I'm not saying I'm a Rose, and I realize the comparison is over-used, but you did choose the Notebook." He stood up after Naomi's giggle and opened a closet door. If she wanted pictures of Blaine, she got pictures of Blaine. He couldn't waste more time in denial, and happy memories of Blaine sounded good. And his connection to Naomi just felt so strong. He was fine if she asked him questions, but for some reason that trust wasn't built over time- it seemed to be there from day one.

Kurt opened the closet, seeing how full the small room was and realizing how far away the pictures may have been.

"Oh, Naomi! I forgot to mention... uh, the photos are on the shelf above the coats. I can't reach them, but if you were to stand on a chair…"

"Yeah, sure." Naomi finished Kurt's thought with her own words.

A chair was dragged to the doorway and hands fished for dusty cardboard shoeboxes. Labels, labels, labels. _Kurt's first birthday, newspaper clippings 1960-1984, postcards_. It was a giant closet- more like a miniature attic. _Leftover film, camera manuals, Kurt's headshots, VHS classics_, and one titled _California road trip_. That last one sounded promising so Naomi clenched her fingers around the edges. Maybe Lillian was hiding inside with her fathers' somewhere in California from all those years ago.

But as the box was lifted, another word and two numbers were revealed in green sharpie. _Lillian: 10-15, _proudly stood in contrast to a yellow shoebox lid_._ That sounded more promising, but Naomi didn't need Kurt questioning her interest in his daughter. So she grabbed a stack of Polaroid's from the bottom box, ready to drop them into the box labeled _California road trip _without Kurt seeing. Her plan could take place when she reminisced with Kurt, and randomly found some out-of-place pictures.

But the pictures never landed in the box. Anyone could have thought that it was because of a simple slip of the fingers on Naomi's part, but Naomi knew the truth.

And once those pictures of a developed young woman dropped on the carpeted floor beneath Naomi, Kurt knew, too. At first, Kurt thought it was his eyes playing tricks on him, but one look into Naomi's shocked orbs of green and he knew for sure.

Naomi looked to the floor again to watch the high school girl's eyes stare up at her. After a good minute she looked back up into Kurt's. Naomi knew that Lillian wasn't biologically Kurt's daughter, but after being raised by him she must have found a way to mix his smile with her own.

And Naomi knew she had her mother's smile.

And a trace of that smile was Kurt's.

"Grandpa?"


End file.
